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Froniispiece 


P. 38 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS 


BY 

MARY HUBBARD HOWELL 

AUTHOR OF “ THROUGH THE WINTER ” SERIES, “ OUT OF THE SHADOW,” 
“ IN ONE girl’s EXPERIENCE,” “ ALONG THE OLD ROAD,” 

“in safe HANDS.” 



“ Even a child maketh himself known by his doings. 

Whether his work be pure, and whether it be right.” 

Bible, Revised version. 



PHILADELPHIA 


THE AMERICAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION 

1122 Chestnut Street 
New York: m Fifth Avenue 

189s 


[Copyrighted, 1895, by The American Sunday-School Union.] 



#■ > . 


/Z~ZYYf^ 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER L 

PACK 


No Moisey 7 

CHAPTER IL 

“We Won’t Go” 17 

CHAPTER HL 

Making Plans 26 

CHAPTER IV. 

In the Garret • 36 

CHAPTER Y. 

Work Begins 47 

CHAPTER VI. 

Water Cresses 67 

CHAPTER VIL 

The Lost Ship 67 

CHAPTER VHI. 

The Cherry Ship 74 

\ 

CHAPTER IX. 

Paying Bills 85 


6 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER X. 

PAGB 

Little Ventures 99 

CHAPTER XL 

Another Ship 114 

CHAPTER XII. 

The Little Ship 126 

CHAPTER XIII. 

A Good Word 135 

CHAPTER XIV. 

The Holly Ship 142 

CHAPTER XY. 

The Christmas Ship 153 

CHAPTER XYI. 

Through One Year 167 

CHAPTER XYII. 


The Last Ship 


189 


DOEOTHY Am HER SHIPS. 


CHAPTER I. 


NO MONEY. 


ITTLE DOROTHY TALCOTT stood by 



Jj the counter of the country store in 
Daytona and looked anxiously at the clerk. 

“ I want a pound of crackers,’’ she said in a 
low voice. 

“ Have you brought the money to pay for 
them?” the clerk asked. 

The little girl’s head drooped and her cheeks 
burned with shame. N — no,” she stammered. 

“Then you will have to wait for your 
crackers until you bring your money,” the 
clerk said sharply. I cannot help it,” he ex- 
plained in a kinder voice, as he noticed the 
little girl’s distressed face, “ I must obey orders, 
and Mr. Jones says your mother isn’t to be 
trusted any longer. She owes him quite a 
large bill now, you know.” 


0 ) 


8 DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 

<4 Ye — es,” Dorothy confessed sadly. 

“ Well,” the clerk continued to explain, “ you 
see it is just this way — folks that don’t pay 
their bills can’t be trusted. Have you no 
money ? then you have no credit. That is our 
rule always. I am sorry for you, but I cannot 
help you.” 

Poor little Dorothy did not attempt to plead 
with the clerk. She lingered by the counter 
a few moments, thinking, in her childish ig- 
norance, that perhaps he would relent; but 
another and more fortunate customer soon 
claimed his attention, and then, unheeded and 
unpitied by any one, the child left the store. 

It was a beautiful warm rriorning in early 
summer ; the sky was cloudless, and the sun- 
shine radiant ; but to the little girl — burdened 
as she was with a sense of want and poverty 
that was terrible to one so young — the world 
looked very dark. Her mother was a widow 
and an invalid, too feeble to do anything for 
the support of her three children. They had 
nothing to eat in the house, and they had 
spent their last dollar. The day before the 
butcher and the baker had presented their bills, 
and Dorothy had stood beside her mother and 
witnessed her grief and humiliation as she 
owned that she could not pay them. Such 
scenes, in any child’s life, are like burns that 


NO MONET. 


9 


leave scars time can never quite obliterate ; and 
to Dorothy poverty seemed the more dreadful 
because it was altogether new and strange. 
Until within a few weeks she had never known 
what it was to feel the pinching hand of want 
in her home ; and the change had come so sud- 
denly that the little girl was frightened and 
bewildered. She was only twelve, but she was 
the oldest child, and she had a pitiful conscious- 
ness that she must take up the burdens her 
mother was not strong enough to bear, and in 
some way — though how she could not imagine 
— support the family. 

As she walked along the street after leaving 
the store she did not shed a tear ; but some- 
thing in her throat seemed to choke her, and 
her young face looked hungry and appealing. 

“ Oh dear,” she thought pitifully, “ I can’t go 
home and tell mother that I couldn’t get the 
crackers, for then she will cry again just as she 
did yesterday. Oh, what shall I do ? ” 

It never occurred to Dorothy that she could 
beg. It did not enter her innocent mind to go 
to any of the comfortable homes near her and 
ask for charity. Though a child, she had great 
self-respect, and now she never thought of wish- 
ing that any one would give her bread. She 
only longed, with all the strength of her young 
heart, to find some work by which she could 


10 DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 

provide for the family. But what work was 
she strong enough to do ? 

“ Oh dear, I wish I wasn’t so little,” she 
sighed with a painful sense of her own helpless- 
ness. She stopped just then, and leaned 
against a fence tliat shut in a pretty country 
garden, for her trouble was like a heavy 
burden and it made her feel tired and weak. 

Just inside the fence, beside the half-opened 
gate, two men were standing. They were talk- 
ing earnestly, in loud clear voices, and in the 
stillness of the country street Dorothy could 
not help hearing what they said. 

“ Yes,” said one of the men, “ they will have 
to go to the almshouse. Mrs. Talcott is an 
invalid, she cannot work, and her three 
children are all too young to support themselves. 
They will be comfortable in the almshouse. It 
is the best place for them, and they will have 
to go there.” 

“ I suppose you are right,” his companion 
replied. “It seems a cruel thing to send 
Roderick Dominick’s sister to the almshouse; 
but, as you say, it is probably the best that can 
be done for such a family. How soon will they 
go?” 

“ The sooner the better for Mrs. Talcott, I 
should say. It will not take long to make the 
necessary arrangements. I ” and then the 


NO MONEY. 


11 


two men walked away and Dorothy heard no 
more. 

But she had heard enough. Those strong 
men were talking of her mother. They were plan- 
ning to send her to the almshouse ; her sweet, 
delicate, refined mother ! Dorothy clinched her 
hands, her eyes grew bright and fierce. 

“We will not go to the almshouse,” she said 
aloud with passionate emphasis. “ I will find 
something to do, I will ” 

The poor child stopped, she could not finish 
her sentence. In her distress she held up her 
little hands and looked at them. What could 
they do to save her mother and little brothers 
from the miserable fate that threatened them ? 
The small hands that had always been more used 
to play than to work, gave her no comfort, and 
she let them drop. In all her life she never 
again felt as utterly weak and helpless as she felt 
at that moment. 

“ But we won’t go to the almshouse,” she 
repeated vehemently: and then with a great 
longing to get home and make sure that her 
mother was still there, she started on a 
run. 

She had gone but a short distance when a 
tiny little fellow in “ kilts ” ran up to her and 
grasped her dress. 

“ Bob’s lost — Bob’s feared. Take Bob home,” 


12 DOROTUT AND HER SHIPS. 

he said, with a child’s confidence and imperious- 
ness. 

Dorothy looked at him and forgot for the mo- 
ment her own trouble. 

“ I don’t know where you live, little boy,” she 
said, in a soothing voice. “ Can’t you tell me 
your whole name ?” 

“ Me’s Bob. Take Bob home,” the child re- 
peated, while he clung to her with all the 
strength in his tiny hands. 

Just then the butcher boy, in his clean white 
apron and with his basket on his arm, came up 
to them. 

“ Hallo, Bob,” he said smilingly, to the little 
fellow. 

“ Oh,” Dorothy said, with a glad sense of relief, 
“do you know this little boy? What is his 
name ? Where does he live ? ” 

“ Why, his name is Bob Merrell, and he lives 
in the new house on the next corner. I suppose 
he’s lost again. I believe he’s always getting 
lost and frightening his mother. I take him 
home ’most every day, and I would take him 
home now, but I am going the other way, and I 
expect the cook at the hotel will scold me for 
being late, so I guess you will have to take care 
of him.” 

“ Of course I will take care of him,” Dorothy 
answered, with a feeling of responsibility that 


NO MONET, 


13 


quite cheered her, and with a gentle hand she 
led the child back to his home. 

A young woman stood by the gate. “ O 
Bob,” she said, as the little boy dropped Dor- 
othy’s hand and ran up to her, “ where have you 
been ? I have been so worried about you.” 

“ He told me he was lost, so 1 brought him 
home,” Dorothy explained. 

“Thank you,” the young mother said, and 
then she continued in a fretful voice, “ I don’t 
know what would become of him if people didn’t 
find him and bring him home, for he is always 
running away and getting lost. I can’t watch 
him all the time, for I have the baby to take care 
of.” 

A bright thought occurred to Dorothy. “ Don’t 
you want a little girl to help you take care of him 
and the baby ? ” she asked a little shyly, but in a 
very earnest voice. 

Mrs. Merrell looked at her with a curious smile. 
“ I have been trying for weeks to find a little 
girl to help me,” she said, “ and I have about 
decided that I might as well try to find a 
diamond.” 

Dorothy’s cheeks flushed, her heart beat fast, 
and her words almost ran over each other she 
spoke so rapidly. “ I will help you,” she said. 
“ I want to find something to do. I want to 
make some money.” 


14 


BOBOTHT AND EBB SHIPS, 


Mrs. Merrell was taken by surprise. “ Are 
you in earnest ? ” she exclaimed. 

“ Yes, ma’am, I’m very much in earnest,” 
Dorothy answered quickly. 

Mrs. Merrell looked at her soberly for a mo- 
ment. “ You are a slender little girl,” she said, 
“ and you are not strong enough to do much 
work. You could help me — a little — in taking 
care of the children, but you are not large 
enough to earn much money. How much would 
you expect me to pay you by the week ? ” 

Dorothy hesitated. She had no idea what her 
services ought to be worth. “ How much were 
you going to pay the little girl you’ve been try- 
ing to find ? ” she asked timidly. “ Perhaps ” — 
she ventured to add — “ I could earn what that 
little girl could.” 

“ Yes, perhaps you could,” Mrs. Merrell said 
kindly, and then she paused. 

“ What would she have to do ? ” Dorothy 
found courage to ask. 

Mrs. Merrell laughed ; something about Dor- 
othy pleased her. “ Well,” she said, “ I should 
want that little girl to be here every morning at 
seven o’clock, and she would have to stay until 
Bob went to bed — some time between five and 
six that would be — and I would give her three 
meals and ten cents a day. Would you come 
for that ? ” 


NO MONEY. 


15 


Ten cents ! Dorothy felt suddenly very rich. 
With ten cents she could buy a loaf of bread. 
Her mother and two little brothers would not 
starve if they had a loaf of bread every day. 
They need not go to the almshouse. 

“ I’ll come,” she said firmly. “ That is,” 
she added, with the desire to make what she 
thought would be an honorable engagement, “ I 
will come until I find something else to do by 
which I can make more money. You know ” — 
she explained gravely — “ I will be growing all 
the time, and I must make all the money I can, 
because I want to support the family.” 

Mrs. Merrell was interested. “ Come in, and 
tell me about your family,” she said. 

Dorothy followed her half-way up the flower- 
bordered path that led to the house, but then 
she stopped. “ I forgot,” she exclaimed ; “ I 
would like to stay longer, but I can’t. I must 
go home. I am needed there. Mother is 
expecting me.” 

“ Then tell me your name.” 

“ Dorothy Talcott.” 

“ Very well, Dorothy, you needn’t stay any 
longer if you would rather not. Go home and . 
tell your mother that I will call on her this ' 
afternoon. I think, if she is willing, I shall be 
very glad to have you help me with the children. 
Here,” and Mrs. Merrell felt in her pocket and 


16 


DOROTHY 'AND HER SHIPS. 


found a ten-cent piece, “ take this for bringing 
Bob home.” 

Dorothy could not help looking longingly at 
the silver bit, for it would just buy a loaf of 
bread for dinner, and yet she hesitated. 

“ Yes, take it,” Mrs. Merrell insisted. You 
have earned it. I have to pay as much almost 
every day to some boy who finds Bob and brings 
him home.” 

Dorothy hesitated no longer. Her little hand 
almost trembled with gladness as it grasped the 
dime. She could go home now with a happy 
heart, for she could carry food to the family, and 
without a moment’s delay she hurried to the 
bakery. The ten cents were quickly exchanged 
for a loaf of bread. With a sense of its pre- 
ciousness that she never had had before, Dorothy 
grasped the loaf with both hands, and then she 
hastened home. 

“ Here is a loaf of bread for you, mother,” 
she cried, as she ran into the room where her 
mother was sitting. 

Mrs. Talcott did not answer, and Dorothy 
stopped in terror; for the man who had said 
that they must go to the almshouse was there, 
and she could see that her mother was crying. 


CHAPTER IL 
“ WE won’t go.” 

D orothy stood still in the doorway, too 
frightened to move or speak. Her mother 
did not look at her or seem conscious of her 
presence ; but the stranger turned and looked at 
her with eyes that seemed to Dorothy very 
sharp and stern. 

“ Ah,” he said, “ is this your little daughter, 
Mrs. Talcott ? ” 

Mrs. Talcott raised her head ; her eyes were 
swollen with tears, and her face was very pale. 

“ Yes,” she said in a slow and hopeless voice, 
“she is my oldest child.” She shivered as 
she spoke, and then in a tone that was like a 
cry, it was so sharp with pain, she called, 
“ Dorothy, come here.” 

Dorothy ran to her mother, laid the loaf of 
bread in her lap, and then clasped her arms 
tightly around her neck. 

“ My poor, poor child,” Mrs. Talcott saici with 
a moan, as she drew the little girl close to her 
heart. 


2 


(H) 


18 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


The stranger waited a moment; then, in a 
cool but not unkind voice, he said, “ You say 
this little girl is your oldest child, Mrs. Talcott, 
and I am sure she is altogether too young and 
too small to support herself.” 

Dorothy suddenly lost her fear. “No, I am 
not too young,” she cried. “ I am going to 
support myself, and I am going to support the 
family, too.” 

“You are?” The man laughed. Dorothy’s 
words seemed to him the foolish talk of a 
child. 

“ Yes,” Dorothy answered without a moment’s 
hesitation. “ I am.” Then she looked up into 
the man’s face, and said in a voice so clear and 
firm that he began to think she must be older 
than she seemed ; “You need not think that 
we will go to the almshouse ; for we won’t. 
We won’t ever go there while I live.” 

“ Who said anything to you about the alms- 
house, Dorothy ? ” Mrs. Talcott asked, in a sur- 
prised but spiritless voice. 

“ I heard him. I heard him talking in the 
street,” Dorothy said passionately. And then, 
while between her fear of the man and her 
determination not to be conquered by him 
her childish form shook piteously, she cried: 
“But we won’t go, mother, tell him we won’t 

go-” 


" WE WON'^T go: 


19 


“ My poor little girl,” Mrs. Talcott said with 
a hopeless groan. 

The stranger cleared his throat. “ See here, 
my little girl,” he said, “ you must not add to 
your mother’s trouble by refusing to do what is 
best for her and for you all. She is not strong 
enough to work, and she has no money. You 
are her oldest child, and you are not large 
enough even to support yourself, and there are 
two other children younger and more helpless 
than you are.” 

“No, Rick isn’t helpless,” Dorothy said 
quickly. 

The man did not appear to hear her. In a 
slow voice, as if he were trying to state the case 
clearly, he proceeded : “ Now, when people 

have no money, and have no friends to help 
them, and are not able to work, I think they 
ought to be very grateful that the town has 
provided a good home for them where they will 
be well cared for.” 

With her arms still clasped about her mother’s 
neck Dorothy had listened to this persuasive 
speech. Now she asked fearfully, “ Is that the 
almshouse ? ” 

Mrs. Talcott answered the question. “ Yes,” 
she said, “ it is the almshouse, Dorothy. Mr. 
Burns takes people there because he is the com- 
missioner of the poor.” 


20 


DOBOTHY AND BEE SHIPS, 


“ Yes, and the sooner I take you there the 
better it will be for your children and yourself, 
Mrs. Talcott,” Mr. Burns said coldly. 

“ How soon must we go?’’ Mrs. Talcott asked, 
in a tone that showed that she felt obliged to 
yield to Mr. Burns’s will. 

Why, I should say immediately,” Mr. Burns 
answered. “ You won’t need to take anything 
with you. You can leave your house just as it 
is ; njothing will be disturbed — at least not at 
present.” 

“No one has any right to disturb anything 
here,” Mrs. Talcott said with more spirit than 
she had shown before. “ The house and its 
furniture belong to my brother, Roderick 
Dominick, Mr. Burns.” 

“Yes, I am aware of that fact,” Mr. Burns 
said, with a wise shake of his head. “ I have 
taken pains to learn all the circumstances con- 
nected with 3^our case, Mrs. Talcott, and I must 
acknowledge that 1 feel very sorry for you.” 

That slight expression of sympathy seemed 
to make Mrs. Talcott anxious to talk about her 
past life. “ I had a beautiful home in South- 
field once,” she began. 

“Yes, I know it,” Mr. Burns interposed 
promptly. “ And then,” he continued, as if he 
wished to prove his assertion, “ when your hus- 
band died, and, to the surprise of every one, left 


“ WE WON^T go: 


21 


you in reduced circumstances, your brother, Rod- 
erick Dominick, brought you here to Daytona, 
and settled you in this old house that he had 
bought a few years before- But I cannot learn 
that he made any provision for your support, 
Mrs- Talcott, and people cannot live on boards 
and plaster, you know.” 

‘■‘But I had money of my own. Roderick 
knew that the interest on that would support us 
comfortably,” Mrs. Talcott hastily explained- 
“And then he expected to come back in a 
year at longest, and take care of us,” she 
added with fresh tears. 

“ Yes,” Mr. Burns answered, “ I know all 
that, Mrs. Talcott. Your brotheT'’s intentions 
were all good, I have no doubt about that. But 
you see things have not turned out as you ex- 
pected. Your money was badly invested. You 
have lost it — you will never recover one dollar 
of it — and Mr. Dominick went away and has 
not been heard from in — nearly three years, isn’t 
it?” he asked doubtfully. 

“ Yes,” Mrs. Talcott sighed. 

“ And nobody knows where he went, or 
whether he is now dead or alive,” Mr. Burns 
proceeded briskly, ^‘and here you are to-day, 
Mrs. Talcott, an invalid and penniless with three 
helpless children- You need care and nursing 
that you cannot provide for yourself, and now, 


22 DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 

under these circumstances, I ask you as a man 
who is considering only your interest, what can 
you do but go to the almshouse ? ” 

— don’t — know,” Mrs. Talcott said in a 
slow, despondent voice. Then a sudden thought 
seemed to inspire her with a little courage and 
she said : “ I am my brother’s only sister and 
nearest relation, Mr. Burns. Now haven’t I a 
right to remain in this house — since he placed 
me in it — as long as I please, or until he returns ? 
There is no mortgage on the house is there ? ” 
and she waited with pitiful impatience for the 
answer to her question. 

“ Yes,” Mr. Burns replied, “ your brother owns 
this house and the two acres of land surrounding 
it free from any encumbrance. Sim Stevens was 
in debt to him for a small sum, and he arranged 
that he should pay his taxes, so no one has any 
right to touch this property. You and your 
children are your brother’s heii*s, and your right 
to live in this house cannot be disputed. But 
you see the trouble is just here. As things are 
at present you cannot sell this property, or raise 
money on it, and, as I said before, you cannot 
live on boards and plaster. Now, I am sure, 
Mrs. Talcott,” Mr. Burns continued persuasively, 
“if you will just take a sensible, unsentimental 
view of your circumstances, you will see that 
your wisest course is to go to the almshouse, 


WE WON^T go: 


23 


for a while at least, until you are stronger, and 
your children older and able to work.” 

“ No,” Dorothy’s young voice rang out like 
a bell. “ My mother is not going to the alms- 
house. I am going to take care of her.” 

“Well, now, I wish you would just tell me 
how you propose to take care of her,” Mr. 
Burns said sharply. “ You know promises won’t 
help her any ; you will have to work, and now 
I should be glad to have you show me — if you 
can — any possible way in which you, a slender 
little girl, can support your invalid mother and 
two young brothers. It is hard work in these 
days for strong men to keep the w.olf from their 
doors. What do you imagine you will be able 
to do?” 

Dorothy’s eyes were full of tears, but with a 
little gesture full of determination she brushed 
them away. Then she pressed her young face 
lovingly against her mother’s, and said simply, 
but with a firmness that surprised Mr. Burns, 
“ I have earned ten cents this morning, and 
bought this loaf of bread ” — and she laid her 
hand on the package in her mother’s lap — “ and 
I have promised to help a lady to take care of 
her little children. She is going to give me my 
meals and ten cents a day, and mornings and 
evenings I can work here at home and make 
things clean and comfortable for mother. And 


24 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


then — with a new thought that brightened her 
eyes and gave a stronger note of hope to her 
voice — “ there is Rick. He is eleven, and I 
know he can do something to help.” 

“ Yes, he will help to eat the bread you buy 
with your ten cents ! ” Mr. Burns said sternly. 

Dorothy did not flinch. “ I am a little girl,” 
she said, with a touching simplicity Mr. Burns 
found hard to resist, “ but I love my mother, 
and I know I can take care of her. You don’t 
want to go to the almshouse, do you, mother? ” 
she asked caressingly. 

“ Want to go ? ” From her fear and excite- 
ment Mrs. Talcott shivered as though she had a 
nervous chill. No, Dorothy,” she said, “ when 
I go to the almshouse with my children the 
bitterness of death will be past.” 

“ Then you really are going to trust the 
promises of this ignorant and helpless child, 
are you? ” Mr. Burns said, in a displeased voice. 
“ You really believe that she will be able to 
support you, do you ? ” 

Mrs. Talcott looked tenderly at her little 
daughter. “ I can at least let her try to do it,” 
she said gravely. “ I believe God has inspired 
her with courage ; I believe he will help her.” 

Mr. Burns shook his head. “ That is a dream, 
nothing but a dream, Mrs. Talcott,” he said 
emphatically. “ Now I knew your brother when 


WE WON^T GOy 


25 


he was a boy, we went to school together for a 
while. He was a good hoy but a very visionary 
one. He was always planning great things for 
the future, and talking of what he would do 
when his ships came in. Now this little girl 
reminds me of him, and I believe she has in- 
herited her uncle’s character. She is a bright 
little dreamer, but she will never be able to 
make her dreams realities. You will all starve 
while you wait for her ships to come in.” 

“ No,” Dorothy said quickly ; “ they will not 
starve, Mr. Burns ! ” And then one of the quick 
bright thoughts, that often surprised her mother 
and made the child seem older than she was, 
gladdened her young heart, and she added: 
“ My ships will all come in, for God will steer 
them.” 

“ Well,” Mr. Burns said, as he arose and took 
his hat, “ I have tried to do my duty, Mrs. Tal- 
cott, and I have given you what I believed to be 
good advice. Since you prefer to let your little 
girl have her way there is nothing more for me 
to say Or do.” But he could not resist adding 
as he was leaving the room, “ When that child 
succeeds, the impossible will have been ac- 
complished.” 


CHAPTER III. 


MAKING PLANS. 

^^“niCK, come here.” 

AXj It was just sunset, and Dorothy stood on 
the kitchen doorstep with a very serious expres- 
sion on her young face. That day had been the 
most eventful one she had ever known. She had 
won in the struggle with Mr. Burns, and Mrs. 
Merrell had been to see her mother. 

Dorothy felt already quite like a little woman 
of business, but she had still one more important 
duty to perform. She had to acquaint Rick 
with their circumstances, and plan with him 
some way in which he could unite with her in 
supporting the family. 

“ Rick,” she called again, after waiting a few 
seconds, “ come here. I want to tell you some- 
thing very important.” 

Rick was playing ball with several other boys 
in what had once been a well-cultivated garden, 
but was now a neglected weed-grown enclosure, 
the village boys had appropriated for a ball- 

ground. At Dorothy’s second call he came 
( 26 ) 


MAKING PLANS, 27 

towards her, tossing up his ball with one hand 
and catching it in the other. 

“ What do you want, Dorie ? ” he asked. 

“ I want you,” Dorothy said, as she sat down 
on the doorstep. “ Sit down, Rick ; I have 
something very important to tell you.” 

“Well, tell it as fast as you can, Dorie,” and 
Rick, a bright-eyed, handsome little fellow, only 
one year younger than Dorothy, sat down beside 
her. “ I say, Dorie,” he exclaimed the next 
instant, without waiting for Dorothy to impart 
her information, “ just look at my old trousers. 
Don’t you think I look a good deal like a walk- 
ing rag-bag ? I am sure I think so.” 

“ Yes,” Dorothy said soberly, “ you look like 
a very poor boy, Rick ; and that is what I want 
to talk to you about.” 

“ You want to talk to me because I look like 
a poor boy,” Rick said, with a boyish laugh. 
“ Well, I don’t see any use in your talking about 
it, Dorie ; you can’t change these old trousers 
into whole ones though you talk all night.” 

“ Yes, there is some use in talking about it,” 
Dorothy insisted with the seriousness of a young 
judge. “ You know you can’t wear these old 
trousers much longer, Rick. They don’t look 
respectable, and you have got to work and earn 
money to buy new clothes.” 

“ It’s very easy for you to sit here and tell me 


28 DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS, 

that, Dorie,” Rick said, while he kicked his 
foot impatiently against the doorstep, “ but now 
I wish you would just tell me what I can do to 
earn new clothes.” 

“ I can’t tell you, I don’t know myself ; but 
we’ve got to plan some way. Rick, do you 
know how poor we are ? ” 

“ Well, we have had nothing but bread to eat 
to-day, and I guess we are pretty near relations 
to Job’s turkey,” Rick said carelessly, with a 
toss of his ball. 

“ Rick, do stop playing with that ball ; we 
must be serious now,” Dorothy said soberly. 
“ I am going to pack my dolls away to-night, 
and I guess you will have to put that ball with 
them, for we are very, very poor, and we have 
got to work now and support the family. You 
didn’t know it, Rick,” and Dorothy’s voice fell 
to a solemn whisper, “ but Mr. Burns, the poor 
commissioner, was here to-day. He wanted to 
send mother and all of us to the almshouse.” 

Poor little Rick was sobered effectually now. 
He dropped his ball, and looked with frightened 
eyes at his sister. 

“ We aren’t going, are we?” he whispered. 

“ No. I am going to support the family, 
Rick, and you must help me.” 

“ Ye — es, I will,” Rick promised. “ But — 
but — what can I do, Dorie ? ” 


MAKING PLANS. 


29 


“ We must find something for you to do, 
Rick, we must think about it now,” Dorothy 
replied gravely. 

“ I don’t even know what to think about do- 
ing,” Rick said dolefully. “What are you go- 
ing to do, Dorie ? ” 

“ I am going to help a lady — her name is 
Mrs. Merrell — take care of two little children,” 
Dorothy answered with much satisfaction. “ I 
am to have ten cents a day, Rick, and that 
will buy bread for mother, and Davie, and you. 
But you know you must have something beside 
bread to eat, and now we must plan how to get 
meat. Rick,” and Dorothy’s voice was very 
appealing, “ can’t you think of something you 
can do to earn meat? Now, to-morrow, I mean, 
you know.” 

Rick looked very unhappy. “ Then I will 
have to give up going to school,” he said. 

“ Yes, and so will I,” Dorothy answered, with 
a little sigh. “ But we can’t help that, Rick, 
we must earn money now. It is for mother, 
you know ; we must take care of her now that 
she is so feeble ; we mustn’t let her be troubled 
about anything, Rick.” 

“ Ye — es,” Rick said slowly. 

Dorothy felt a little dissatisfied. “ Why, Rick, 
don’t you want to help mother?” she asked. 

“ Ye — es,” Rick said, in the same slow voice. 


30 


LOROTHY AND SEE SHIPS, 


“ But, Dorie, I don’t know how to help her, 
and then ” — and now there was a pitiful little 
sound like a sob in his voice — “ I’ve thought — 
I’ve always thought — that I would like to 
study and know a great deal — and now — I 
don’t suppose I ever can.” 

“ Perhaps you can, some day, Rick,” Dorothy . 
said encouragingly. And then, impelled by a 
desire to receive sympathy as well as give it, 
she said : “ I’ve always thought, Rick, that I 
would like to read a great many books, and 
some day — when I am grown to be a woman, 
you know — write one.” 

“ And can’t you ever do that now ? ” Rick 
asked anxiously. 

“No, I am afraid I can’t,” Dorothy said, 
while something like a cloud spread over her 
bright face. 

“ It is too bad,” Rick said impulsively. 

Dorothy did not answer. The golden sun- 
set light was all about them, but on their 
young lives a dark shadow seemed to rest, and 
for a few minutes the two children sat silent 
on the old doorstep, struggling with cares and 
disappointments that would have sorely tried 
older and stronger hearts. 

Dorothy was the first to speak. “ Come, 
Rick,” she said, “ we must plan how to support 
the family.” 


MAKING PLANS. 


31 


“ I don’t see,” little Rick said dolefully, “ how 
we ever can support the family, Dorie.” 

“ I suppose it will be hard work,” Dorothy 
acknowledged. “ But you know we are sure of 
ten cents every day, and that will go a good ways 
towards doing it, Rick.” 

“Will it? You can’t buy much with only 
ten cents, Dorie,” Rick said, in a voice that 
sounded as though something in his throat 
were choking him. 

“ It will buy a loaf of bread,” Dorothy said 
hopefully. “ And it will be a great deal for us 
to have all the bread we want, Rick. I feel 
pretty sure that we can support the family, and 
I will tell you what my plans are.” 

“ Why, have you got plans, already, Dorie ? ” 
Rick asked in surprise. 

“ Yes. That is — I haven’t planned any real 
work yet, but I know what I mean to do. I 
made up my mind this morning while Mr. Burns 
was talking with mother. I am going to send 
all the ships I can out to sea. Do you know 
what I mean, Rick ? ” 

Rick nodded. In imagination at least he was 
equal to Dorothy. “ You mean that you are 
going to do all you can to make money,” he 
said promptly. 

“ And to help mother,” Dorothy added. 
“And, Rick,” the little girl said dreamily, 


32 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


while her eyes grew bright with the visions she 
was seeing, “ maybe, some day, when we have 
done all we can, a great ship will come sailing 
home to us, and then we will have all the money 
we need to make mother and Davie comfortable, 
and you can study, and I can buy all the books 
I want. That will be good, won’t it, Rick ? ” 

“ Yes,” Rick said. “ But won’t it be a great 
many years before that ship comes in, Doric ?” 

“ I don’t know — I hope not. I feel just as if 
it must come sometime, Rick, and I do wonder 
what kind of a ship it will be.” 

“ Perhaps it will be Uncle Rod,” Rick said. 
“ I wish he would come home, Doric, why do 
you suppose he stays away so long ? ” 

“ I don’t know,” Dorothy said soberly. “ You 
don’t want him to come home any more than I 
do, Rick, for I do love him dearly.” 

“ If he would only come he would take care 
of us, and we wouldn’t have to support the 
family,” Rick said thoughtfully. 

Rick’s words dispelled Dorothy’s dreams, and 
brought her back to the present with all its 
burdens. 

“ Rick,” she exclaimed, “ we are forgetting — 
we must think of something for you to do. We 
must find a ship for you.” 

“ Well, find one if you can, Doric,” Rick said, 
in a doubtful tone. 


MAKING PLANS, 


33 


Dorothy did not speak immediately. With 
her elbow on her knee, and her head resting in 
her hand, she sat looking gravely down on the 
ground. Suddenly she exclaimed: “Rick, I 
believe I’ve found a ship for you. I met a 
butcher boy this morning. He had on a white 
apron, and he was carrying a basket. Now, 
Rick, couldn’t you wear a white apron and 
carry a basket ? ” 

“ Yes, if anybody would let me.” 

“Then let’s go now — right away — to the 
butcher’s shop, and see if you can’t,” Dorothy 
said with energy. 

Rick sprang up. If Dorothy would lead, he 
was very willing to follow. “ Come along, 
then,” he said ; and in another minute the little 
brother and sister were on their way to the 
butcher’s. There were no customers in the shop 
when they entered it, only the butcher was 
there, sitting at his desk with his ledger open 
before him. Hand in hand, with a great dread 
of what the man might say to them, but with a 
firm determination to speak to him, the children 
went up to the desk. 

The butcher glanced up from his book, and 
then turned around in his office-chair and faced 
them. 

“Well,” he said pleasantly, “what do you 
want ? ” 

3 


34 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


I waut to wear a white apron and carry a 
basket,” Rick said impulsively. 

What ? ” the butcher exclaimed, while he 
stared at Rick and laughed. 

“ Yes,” Dorothy hastened to explain, “ Rick 
wants to be a butcher boy. We are very poor, 
and we have got the family to support. I am 
going to earn the bread taking care of a baby, and 
we thought maybe Rick could earn the meat.” 

“ Yes, I see.” The man looked at the chil- 
dren, and his face softened. “ You are pretty 
young to begin to bear the burdens of life,” he 
said, “ but I had to begin young myself. So you 
think you can carry a basket, do you, my young 
man ? ” 

“ Yes,” Rick said, with confidence, “ my arms 
are awful strong.” 

“ They look so.” The butcher laughed as he 
spoke, but at the same time he laid his large 
hand kindly on the boy’s head. “ What is your 
name ? ” he asked. 

“ Roderick Dominick Talcott,” Rick said 
grandly, for he was very proud of his name. 

“ Hum — so you are the Widow Talcott’s boy, 
are you ? ” the man said soberly. He waited a 
moment. “ Did you say you were going to 
support your family ? ” he asked then. 

“ Yes. There is no one else to do it. Mother 
is sick,” Dorothy said simply. 


MAKING PLANS, 


35 


“ Hum.” The butcher turned to his ledger, 
found a certain page, and studied it a minute. 
Then he turned back to the children and looked 
sharply at them for a few seconds. His face 
was grave, and Dorothy feared he was going to 
deny their request, but when he spoke his voice 
was very pleasant. 

“ Well, my little fellow,” he said, “ you may 
come to-morrow morning — bright and early, 
remember — and I will see what I can do for 
you. I will at least give you meat enough for 
your family while you work for me.” 

“ Thank you, sir,” Rick said gratefully. “ I 
will be here with the sun to-morrow morning.” 

“ All right. Ask for me. My name’s Cutler,” 
and with a nod and a low amused laugh the 
butcher turned back to his ledger. 

“Rick,” Dorothy said, when they reached 
home and found that their mother and little 
brother were asleep on the lounge, “ Rick, don’t 
make any noise, but bring the lamp and come 
up into the garret with me. I want to do some- 
thing up there before I go to bed.” 


CHAPTER IV. 


IN THE GARRET. 

T he garret was a musty, dusty, and dingy 
place. In it were stored old broken chairs, 
boxes full of papers and worm-eaten books, old 
pieces of carpet, and a quantity of worn-out 
clothes — the worthless and rejected rubbish of 
the many different families that had lived in 
the old house. 

It would have been hard to find a drearier 
place than that old garret, but Dorothy and 
Rick thought it delightful. There Dorothy had 
a play-house, and Rick had a work-bench, and a 
few old tools. Many happy hours the little 
brother and sister had spent in that old garret, 
and always before when they went there their 
little feet had raced up the old stairs, and the 
old house had rung with their merry shouts and 
laughter. 

That night everything about the two children 
seemed changed. With a solemn face Rick 
crept softly up the stairs with the lamp, and 

Dorothy tiptoed behind him. When they 
( 36 ) 


IN THE GARRET. 


37 


reached the garret Rick set the lamp down care- 
fully on a box, and then he stood still and looked 
at Dorothy. 

Without a word the little girl went to the 
corner that had always been regarded as her 
special part of the garret. An old packing-box 
about three feet square stood there. To Doro- 
thy’s bright fancy it was a beautiful baby-house, 
and in it were arranged all her own peculiar 
treasures. 

Some of them were the remnants of expen- 
sive toys — her playthings in the almost for- 
gotten time when her home had been rich and 
beautiful — others were poor and worthless little 
things, but to the child they were all alike 
precious. Old pictures, cut from illustrated 
papers, decorated the sides of the box, and a 
bit of red carpet covered its floor. Broken dishes 
of glass and bright-colored china were arranged 
on a block that Dorothy’s imagination had trans- 
formed into a buffet. In a doll’s cradle a small 
doll with a broken arm was peacefully reposing. 
In a rude little chair — a piece of Rick’s handi- 
work — the mother doll was sitting in state, and 
in the bed, that Dorothy had manufactured out of 
a large pasteboard box, lay two little rag babies 
covered with a patch-work quilt her happy little 
hands had cut and sewed. 

Those things, although such trifles, had given 


88 DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS, 

color and beauty to Dorothy’s young life, and 
her old play-house had never seemed more beau- 
tiful than it did now as she stood in the dim 
lamplight and looked at it. But she never for 
a moment faltered in the purpose that had 
brought her to the garret. 

“ Rick,” she asked, “ do you know what I am 
going to do ? ” 

“ I know what you said about packing things 
away,” Rick answered, with something like a 
sob in his voice. 

“Yes,” Dorothy said seriously, “that is 
what I am going to do, Rick. I am going to 
pack all these things away to-night. I can’t 
play wdth them any more, for you know it 
will take all my time now to help support the 
family.” 

“Won’t you ever play with them again, as 
long as you live, Dorie ? ” Rick asked, in a sub- 
dued voice. 

“ I don’t know — I would like to — but I don’t 
believe I ever will,” Dorothy said prophetically. 
“ Rick,” she said the next instant, in a more 
business-like tone, “ let’s look around. I want 
to find an empty box.” 

With careful steps the two children explored 
the garret, until they found a box that Dorothy 
thought would answer her purpose. Then Rick 
stood by and looked soberly on while with gentle 


IN THE GARRET. 


39 


and loving little hands Dorothy packed away 
her treasures. 

The bits of glass and china were wrapped in 
papers as carefully as if they were of priceless 
value. The pictures were taken down, the carpet 
was folded up, and lastly the chair, and cradle, 
and bed, with their precious occupants were 
tenderly deposited in the box. 

Then with the cover of the box in her hand 
Dorothy stood still and looked down on her 
treasures. 

“ They are going to have a long, long nap, 
aren’t they? ” Rick said in a tremulous whisper. 

Dorothy brushed away a tear. “ I — I — feel 
just as if it were a funeral,” she said huskily. 
“ But it’s right for me to do it, Rick. I am sure 
it’s right. I can’t afford to play any longer, and 
so you see I must pack away everything that 
might tempt me to play. Rick,” with a little 
change in her tone, “ isn’t there anything you 
want to put in this box ? If there is, I can 
make room for it.” 

Rick jerked his little body nervously, and 
stood first on one foot, and then on the other. 
Dorothy’s suggestion was most unwelcome, and 
yet he felt that he ought to heed it. 

“ Do you think that I really ought to pack 
away my ball, Doric ? ” he asked, in a pleading 
voice. 


40 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


Dorothy thought a moment. “ No,’’ she said 
then, to Rick’s great relief. “ Grown men play 
with balls, and so I am sure it will be right for 
you to keep yours, Rick, if only ” — in a warn- 
ing tone — “ you will remember that grown men 
don’t play ball when they ought to work.” 

“ I will remember, Dorie,” Rick promised 
eagerly. 

“ W ell, then, there’s my hammer and saw.” 

“ Oh, you must keep them,” Dorothy said, as 
Rick waited for her decision. “ Mother often 
wants you to do little jobs about the house for 
her, you know. Well, is that all, Rick? 
Haven’t you anything that will be a temptation 
to you ? ” 

Rick did not answer. He stood still a moment 
and then he tiptoed across the bare floor to the 
little nook that was considered his part of the 
garret, and in a minute came back with a little 
violin in his hand. It was a pitiable affair 
enough, but Rick had made it himself ; he 
declared that he “ could most play a tune on it,” 
and it was very dear to his boyish heart. 

“ I guess this had better go in the box,” he 
said sadly. “ You put it in, Dorie, some way I 
don’t feel as if I could.” 

But Dorothy hesitated. It was easier for her 
to deny herself than it was to deny Rick. 

“ O Rick,” she said pitifully, that is music, 


IN THE GARRET. 


41 


and music isn’t wrong, — and then you love it so ; 
I don’t believe you need to pack that away.” 

But little Rick was in a Spartan mood, and 
though his hands did tremble a little, he 
stooped down and placed his most cherished 
possession in the box beside Dorothy’s dolls. 

“ There,” he said, with a long-drawn breath, 
“ I will leave it there, Dorie. I don’t believe I 
could keep from running away from work and 
playing on it sometimes if I kept it ; and you 
know” — and the little fellow winked hard to 
keep the tears from falling — “ if you are going to 
support the family, I am going to help you, and 
I don’t want to be tempted not to do my part.” 

Dorothy drew very close to her brother. 

“Rick,” she whispered, “we do love them, 
don’t we ? Let’s kiss them, and give them up 
that way before we put on the cover.” 

Tenderly, with as much feeling as if their old 
playthings were conscious of their renunciation, 
the children stooped down and kissed them. 

Then Dorothy carefully laid the box-cover 
over them. 

“ Rick,” she said, “ can’t you find a rope ? 
We don’t want to drive nails in the box to-night, 
for that would wake up mother.” 

Rick went off on another search about the 
garret, and soon returned with a piece of an old 
clothesline. 


42 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


“ I guess this will be strong enough,” he said. 
And then, with Dorothy’s help, he tied the box 
securely and stowed it away in a dark corner 
under the eaves. 

“ I wonder when we will draw it out and open 
it, don’t you, Dorie ? ” Rick said, when at last 
their labor of love and renunciation was ended. 

Dorothy could not answer him. She had 
been very brave up to that moment ; but now 
she seemed suddenly to realize all that she was 
giving up, and, sitting down on the floor, she 
rested her tired little head on the dismantled 
playhouse, and cried like the forlorn and inno- 
cent child she really was. 

“ O Rick,” she sobbed. “ I can’t give them 
up. I can’t bear it. I feel as if I were never 
going to be a little girl again.” 

Rick sat down beside her. “ It most makes 
me want to cry too,” he said mournfully, “ but — 
but — I suppose, Dorie, we can’t support the 
family if we aren’t brave.” 

Dorothy raised her head and put her arms 
around the little boy. “ N — no — we must not 
cry,” she said, and then her tears choked her 
voice, and for a few moments there was no sound 
in the garret save the children’s long-drawn sob- 
bing breaths. But Dorothy soon controlled her- 
self. 

“ Rick,” she said, “ I want to tell you some- 


IN THE GABRET. 


43 


thing now. You aren’t tired and sleepy, are 
you?” 

“ No,” the little fellow answered, “ I am not 
a bit sleepy, Dorie. But what are you going to 
tell me now ? ” he asked the next moment, in a 
troubled voice, as if he rather dreaded another 
of Dorothy’s disclosures. 

“ I want — to tell you — what — I’ve — been — 
thinking about,” Dorothy said slowly, as if she 
were trying to find words to express her thoughts. 
“ Rick, this morning, when they wouldn’t trust 
me at the store, I was very wicked. I didn’t 
say anything out loud, but I thought — O Rick, 
I thought such a dreadful thing — I didn’t 
believe God loved us and was taking care of us.” 

Rick clung to his sister as if her words had 
frightened him. “ But he does love us, he does 
take care of us, doesn’t he, Dorie ? ” he asked in 
a troubled voice, that told plainly how much he 
trusted to Dorothy’s opinion. “ Seems to me, 
Dorie, it will be dreadful hard for us to work 
and support the family if God doesn’t care for 
us.” 

“ But he does — he does — he does care for us, 
Rick, I am sure of it now,” Dorothy insisted 
earnestly. “ Only think of all he has done for 
us to-day. We’ve had bread enough, we haven’t 
got to go to the almshouse, and we’ve got work 
for to-morrow. Rick, I must tell you some- 


44 DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 

thing. I never thought of it before — that is, 
much, you know — but I have been thinking to- 
day, and now I have made up my mind, and, 
Rick, I am going to be a Christian.” 

“ What do you mean by being a Christian, 
Dorie ? ” Rick asked solemnly. 

“Why — I mean,” Dorothy thought a moment, 
“ Rick, I mean saying, ‘ Our Father,’ and 
believing it.” 

“ Believing it ? ” Rick repeated, in a puzzled 
tone, that showed he did not grasp her meaning. 

“ Yes, believing it,” Dorothy repeated, with a 
strong emphasis on the words. “Rick, don’t 
you remember how much our own father loved 
us, and how good he was to us ? ” 

“Yes — ^yes,” Rick said fervently. 

“Well, Rick, when we pray ‘Our Father,’ 
I think it means just this — that God is our 
Father, and we are his children; and if God 
is our Father, then we must be sure that he 
does love us, and will take care of us ; and 
if we are his children, Rick, then we must love 
him and try to please him.” 

“ Tliere’s Jesus,” Rick said in a tender voice, 
“ you don’t mean to leave him out, do you, 
Dorie?” 

“Why we can’t — we can’t leavfe Jesus out 
and be Christians,” Dorothy said in an earnest, 
loving tone, “because — don’t you see, Rick, 


7JV THE GARRET. 


45 


Jesus is in it all. He came to teach us, and to 
save us. Why, Rick, we couldn’t pray, ‘ Our 
Father’ if he hadn’t taught us.” 

“We ought to love him very much,” little 
Rick said softly. 

“ Yes, we ought, and we will, Rick. We 
will love him dearly, and we will pray ‘ Our 
Father ’ every day, won’t we ? ” 

“ Yes, if we don’t forget,” Rick said gravely. 
“ Dorie, suppose we say ‘ Our Father ’ now, and 
ask him to keep us from forgetting.” 

Side by side in the gloom of the dark old 
garret the two children knelt. Together they 
repeated the precious “ Our Father,” in which 
through the long ages so many hearts have 
found expression for all their longings, and 
then, after a moment’s pause, Dorothy prayed 
softly : 

“ Our dear heavenly Father, we are such 
little children that we don’t always know what 
we ought to do. Please teach us. Please help 
us to do right. Please help us to support the 
family. Please help us to love you always, and 
never to forget to say ‘ Our Father.’ Please 
help us always to love our dear Lord Jesus. 
Amen.” 

“ Are we Christians now, Dorie ? ” Rick 
asked as the two children were tiptoeing softly 
down the stairs. 


46 DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 

Ill after years Rick’s memory often recalled 
the picture of Dorothy, as he saw her then as 
the lamp in his hand threw its light upon her 
bright young face. 

“ Yes, Rick,” she said, in a sweet, joyous 
voice. “I am sure we are Christians now. We 
are God’s little children. O Rick, when God 
is our Father, I don’t believe it will be very 
hard for us to support the family, do you ? ” 


CHAPTER V. 


WOKK BEGINS. 

T he first pink tints of the early dawn were 
brightening the sky the next morning when 
Dorothy opened her eyes. It seemed so early, 
and she felt so sleepy, that for a moment she 
nestled her head in her pillow for another nap. 
Then she remembered her engagement with 
Mrs. Merrell, and instantly she was wide awake. 
Springing out of bed she ran to Rick’s door. 
“Rick,” she called, “ get up. We’ve got lots to 
do this morning.” 

Sleepy little Rick yawned, and rubbed his 
eyes, and stretched his arms several times. It 
was very hard to quit his comfortable bed, but 
he manfully obeyed Dorothy’s summons, and in 
a few minutes the children were together in the 
kitchen. 

¥ 

“We must do everything we can for mother’s 
comfort before we go,” Dorothy said with lov- 
ing thoughtfulness. 

So Rick kindled the fire, and filled the tea- 
kettle, and Dorothy arranged the sitting room, 

( 47 ) 


48 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS, 


made Rick’s bed and her own, and coaxed 
sleepy little Davie, who was only seven years 
old, to get up and dress. 

Then, when everything else was done that 
she could do that morning, she took the bit of 
bread left from yesterday’s loaf, toasted it 
nicely, and carried it with a cup of hot water 
to her mother’s bedside. 

“ Take this now, mother,” she said, “ and at 
noon 1 will come home and bring you some- 
thing better to eat.” 

Mrs. Talcott sighed heavily. “ Where is 
Davie ? ” she said. “ What will become of him, 
if you leave him alone ? ” 

“ I’m not going to leave him, I’m going to 
take him with me,” the little girl answered 
cheerfully. “ I’ll give him part of my breakfast, 
and then send him to school.” 

Mrs. Talcott sighed again ; life looked very 
dark to her that morning. She did not speak, 
but her weary eyes and sad face and feeble 
hands exerted a depressing influence, that so- 
bered and discouraged her little daughter. 

“ You are sure you won’t want anything 
while I am gone, mother ? ” Dorothy asked 
anxiously, when Mrs. Talcott finished her light 
meal and dropped back again on to her pillows. 

“No, dear, no, I only want to rest,” the poor 
woman moaned weakly. 


WOBK BEGINS. 


49 


Dorothy bent over her mother and kissed her 
many times. It was very hard for the little 
girl to be brave that morning, and the tears 
were often dangerously near her eyes ; but no 
words of complaint or discouragement passed 
her lips. More than once, as she went about 
the house she whispered, “ Our Father,” and in 
the strength none but the Father gave her, she 
went with Rick to the gate, when he started for 
the butcher’s, and waved her handkerchief 
encouragingly to him until he was out of sight. 
Then she went once more to her mother’s room, 
and satisfied herself that there was nothing 
more her willing hands could do for her com- 
fort, and then, with little Davie, she started for 
Mrs. Merrell’s. It was just seven o’clock when 
she arrived there. It was a warm morning, and 
Davie sat down contentedly on the doorstep, 
while she went into the house. No one was 
downstairs but the cook. She was busy with 
her saucepans over the kitchen fire. 

“ Are you the little girl, the missis is ’spect- 
ing ? ” she asked pleasantly, when she saw 
Dorothy. 

“ Yes,” Dorothy said timidly. 

“Well, then, honey, you are to go right ’long 
upstairs. Bob’s awake an’ the baby’s cryin’, 
an’ Mrs. Merrell she’s alius dreadfully frus- 
trated in the mornin’s. I ’spect you’ll have 
4 


50 DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 

your little hands full with them childrens, 
honey.” 

The prospect before her did not look very 
bright, but Dorothy found the stairs and went 
bravely up to her duties. 

Tile nursery door was open. Mrs. Merrell, in 
her dressing-sack, was attending to Bob’s toilet, 
while the baby, a healthy little creature, ten 
months old, lay on the bed, kicking its tiny feet, 
and protesting with all the strength of its 
small voice against having to lie abed when it 
wanted to be up and out of that tiresome 
nursery. 

“There, baby, there, mamma will take you 
as soon as she can,” Mrs. Merrell was saying 
dolefully, as Dorothy appeared in the doorway. 

“ O Dorothy,” she said, in a brighter voice, 
“ I am glad to see you. Here, button Bob’s 
shoes, while I take baby up.” 

Dorothy looked on the dressing-table, found 
the button-hook, and then took up Bob’s boots ; 
while the little fellow sat down on a low chair 
and held out his small foot. 

“ Bob’s in a hurry,” he said warningly. 

Dorothy knelt down beside him, and put on 
one of the shoes. “ Why, the buttons are all 
off,” she said then. 

“ Yeth, I gueth tho, Bob’s buttons come off 
every day,” Bob said truthfully. 


WORK BEGIKS, 


51 


“Nothing lasts long on Bob,” Mrs. Merrell 
said,. in a fretful voice. “You’ll have to sew 
the buttons on, Dorothy. You’ll find them and 
the needle and thread in my work-basket there 
on the table.” 

Sewing on buttons was a new work for 
Dorothy, and that morning, in her excitement 
and anxiety to please, her little fingers were 
unusually awkward. It seemed as if the 
buttons had no eyes, it was so hard to find them 
and get the needle through them. While she 
struggled with them, the baby continued to cry, 
and Bob fretted impatiently, and Mrs. Merrell 
watched her with a dissatisfied face. 

“ You’ll have to learn to work quick if you 
stay with me, Dorothy,” she said, when at last 
the shoes were buttoned and their small 
wearer ready for his day’s campaign. 

Perhaps in all her young life Dorothy had 
never wanted to cry more than she did at that 
moment ; but she choked down the rebellious 
tears and waited quietly for her next orders. 

“Now come and try to keep baby still while 
I go down to breakfast,” Mrs. Merrell said. 
“ Don’t let him cry. It does annoy Mr. Merrell 
so to have the children cry when we are at the 
table.” 

Dorothy never forgot her sufferings that 
morning while she tried to keep that baby still. 


52 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


Cry it would, and cry it did, until, in despera- 
tion, she took it up, and staggering under its 
weight, for it was a heavy child, walked up and 
down the floor with it. 

Her arms and back were both aching when 
Mrs. Merrell returned to the nursery, and sent 
her down to the kitchen to get her own break- 
fast. 

It was a nice little breakfast, for Fanny, the 
kind-hearted colored cook, had taken a fancy to 
the little girl’s sweet face,, and had said to her- 
self, “ The child shall have the comfort of good 
meals in this house, for she won’t get no other 
comfort.” 

But though it was very tempting Dorothy 
had little appetite for it. A very few mouth- 
fuls satisfied her hunger, and then she carried 
the well-filled plate out to Davie, who was still 
waiting on the doorstep. The little boy, who 
was happily ignorant of his sister’s burdens, en- 
joyed the breakfast, and then ran cheerfully 
off to school. Dorothy’s sober eyes followed him 
wistfully until he was out of sight, then she 
carried the empty plate back into the kitchen. 
Fanny had given her a cup of coffee, and she 
had brought a small pail with her. Now she 
poured the coffee into the pail, and set it care- 
fully away. 

Fanny watched her, and drew her own con- 


WOBK BEGINS. 


53 


elusions. “ The child will jes’ starve herself to 
feed others,” she thought, “ an’ that won’t do, 
nohow.” 

“ See here, little girl,” she said, when 
Dorothy was about to leave the kitchen, “ you 
ain’t eat no breakfus. How do you ’spect to 
tote that air heavy baby round, hey, if you 
don’t eat ? You won’t have no strength in your 
arms nor legs nuther.” 

“ I’m not hungry now, but I’ll eat my 
dinner,” Dorothy promised with a patient 
little sigh. 

That morning proved a trying time for Doro- 
thy. She was so young and inexperienced that 
she was almost bewildered with the constant 
calls upon her. The baby was fretful, and 
Bob’s genius for mischief was simply marvel- 
lous. From the garret to the cellar he wan- 
dered, always on the lookout for something his 
small hands could meddle with and destroy. 
Once that morning Dorothy found him sailing 
his mother’^ best shoes in the bath-tub. 

“Bob fin’ pretty boats,” he said compla- 
cently, when he heard Dorothy’s cry of surprise 
and dismay. 

A little later he was missing again, and this 
time Dorothy found him with a bottle of ink 
and his mother’s writing-tablet. 

“Bob wite letters,” he explained; pointing 


54 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


with delight to the sheets of handsome letter 
paper he had blotted and ruined. 

“ You must watch him every moment, Dor- 
othy,” Mrs. Merrell said, and Dorothy tried 
faithfully to obey her. 

But it was weary work, and the little girl 
was glad when the hour for dinner came. 
Then she asked permission to go home for a 
few minutes. She could take the children 
with her, she said. So the baby was placed 
in its carriage, and Dorothy rolled it through 
the street, while Bob harnessed her with his 
worsted reins and occasionally let her feel the 
sting of his little whip, if she .did not go fast 
enough. It was hard for Dorothy to remember 
her part, and play she was a runaway pony 
when she felt like a sad-hearted and tired little 
girl. But when she reached home all her 
troubles were forgotten. 

She had brought the dinner that Fanny had 
given her, and the pail of coffee with her ; and 
very soon she had a tempting little lunch pre- 
pared for her mother, who ate it, and, to Dor- 
othy’s great delight, seemed to enjoy it. 

The world began to look brighter to Dor- 
othy, as soon as she saw her mother smile ; 
but she watched anxiously for Rick. She had 
a great desire to know what the morning had 
brought to him. 


WOBK BEGINS. 


55 


The little boy soon appeared. A clean, white 
butcher’s apron covered him from his neck to 
his feet, and with evident pride he carried a 
good-sized basket. 

“ See,” he shouted in high glee, as he placed 
his basket on the table and took out its con- 
tents. “ Just see this nice piece of beef Mr. 
Cutler has given me, and here are some bones 
to make soup of, too.” 

“ Then you have had a good morning, Rick,” 
Dorothy said, while a great burden seemed to 
fall from her. 

“A good morning? I should think so,” Rick 
said, with supreme satisfaction. “I’ve been 
carrying their orders home to Mr. Cutler’s cus- 
tomers, and he says I’ve been very prompt, and 
that while I work for him he’ll give me meat 
enough for us all every day. You know,” Rick 
proceeded to explain — with the wisdom gained 
in half a day’s experience — “ there’s ever so 
much meat that rich folks won’t buy in a 
butcher’s shop.” 

“ And we can have all we want ? ” Dorothy 
said slowly, as if she were trying to grasp the 
full meaning of such good news. 

“ Yes,” Rick said emphatically. “ Don’t you 
think I’ll be a pretty good help in supporting 
the family, Dorie ? ” 

“ I don’t believe I could do it without you. 


56 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


Rick/’ Dorothy said, in a loving and humble 
tone. 

“ You oughtn’t to, for I’m going to be the 
man of the family, you know,” Rick almost 
shouted in his excitement. And then the 
happy boy seized his sister’s hand, and the two 
children danced joyfully about the room. It 
was a bright little playtime in a busy day. 
But it was soon over, and then Rick ran back 
to the shop, and Dorothy and her little charges 
returned to their home. 


CHAPTER VI. 


WATER CRESSES. 

I^OROTHY’S first afternoon with Mrs. 
^ Merrell was a very exact copy of her first 
morning. She was busy every moment watching 
the two children, ministering to their numerous 
small necessities, and trying to amuse them. 
But the day, with all its little trials came to an 
end at last. At five o’clock Bob had his supper. 
Soon after that Dorothy had the pleasure of see- 
ing him safe in his little crib, and then she was 
free to go home. Her patience and willingness 
had pleased Mrs. Merrell. She paid her her 
ten cents, and said kindly, “You have been a 
great help to me to-day, Dorothy.” And the 
knowledge that she had earned her money, and 
satisfied Mrs. Merrell, made the conscientious 
child very happy. 

“Be you cornin’ to-morrow?” Fanny asked, 
when Dorothy ran into the kitchen for her 
supper. 

“ Oh, yes ; I hope so,” Dorothy answered. 

“Well, then, you must jes’ mind my words. 


58 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


You must eat your three meals a day. You’re 
a growin’ child, and you can’t keep your strength 
if you don’t eat, don’t you know that ? See 
here, honey,” and Fanny went to a closet and 
took out a small basket, “ I’m goin’ to put you 
up a fust-rate supper to-night, to take home — 
Mrs. Merrell she tole me to — but now I want 
you to promise you’ll eat most of it your own 
self, will you ? ” 

Dorothy thought thankfully, as well as 
hungrily, of Rick’s meat. “ Yes,” she said, “ I’ll 
eat my supper to-night. I’m sure there will be 
enough for us all.” 

“ I guess there’s goin’ to be,” Fanny said, with 
a wise nod of her turbaned head, and with 
generous hands she proceeded to fill the basket. 

Large slices of bread and butter, and some 
nice cold vegetables were carefully placed in it, 
and then she brought a bottle and filled it with 
cold tea. 

“ You’ve got a sick mother, ain’t you ? ” she 
said. “ Well, then, honey,” she went on, with- 
out waiting to be answered, “ you jes’ heat this 
tea real hot an’ I guess it will taste pretty good 
to her. An’ I guess this will be good for you 
childrens,” she said, as she put a dish half-full 
of rice-pudding in the basket. “ They say there’s 
some parts of the world where all the folks live 
on rice, and don’t ever eat nothin’ else,” she 


WATEli CRESSES. 59 

continued, ‘‘ an’ so I’m sure it must be wholesome 
for you young ones to eat.” 

“ Does it cost much ? ” Dorothy asked. 

“ La, no, child, you can buy a pound for five 
cents, an’ a pound will last you a long time, if 
you don’t waste it.” 

“How do you cook it?” Dorothy asked now. 

“Well, I s’pose the easiest way is to boil it,” 
Fanny said, in a wise tone. “ I s’pose you know 
how to do that, honey ? ” 

“ No,” Dorothy unwillingly admitted, “ I 
don’t know much about cooking.” 

“ La, well,” Fanny said consolingly, “ you’re 
such a little girl, it ain’t strange if you don’t 
know much yet, honey, but I’ll tell you how to 
cook rice ; it’s easy enough when you know how, 
like mos’ other things. You jes’ boil a quart of 
water, and put a little salt in it, an’ then you 
take a cupful of rice an’ giv’ it a good washin’, 
honey, an’ then you put it in the water and boil 
it hard for about fifteen minutes. Then you jes’ 
pours all the water off, and you covers it tight, 
and then it must cook ’bout twenty minutes 
longer. You jes’ cook it that way an’ ev’ry 
grain will stan’ out by itself, jes’ as if it weren’t 
no ’lation to the other grains — an’ that’s alius 
the way to have rice — an’ then you can eat it 
with sugar, or you can have it plain jes’ like a 
vegetable, you know.” 


60 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


Dorothy’s eyes sparkled ; she was already 
forming plans for adding rice to their bill of 
fare. 

“ Do you always have to pay ten cents for a 
loaf of bread ? ” she asked. 

Fanny looked up, her eyes snapped, every 
fold in her turban seemed to express contempt. 

“ Pay ten cents for a loaf of bread I ” she re- 
peated. “Well, now, honey, I’m free to say 
that I’d jes’ call that pretty stravagant doin’s 
for poor folks. Does you mean that you pays 
that?” 

“ Yes, I did yesterday,” Dorothy said meekly. 

Fanny shook her head. “ The way poor, 
ig’rant folks do get imposed on is too bad ! ” she 
said. “ See here, honey. I’ll tell you what to 
do. You jes’ buy the stale bread, baked yester- 
day or the day afore yesterday. It’s jes’ as good 
— some folks say it’s better than when it’s 
fresh — an’ you can get that for five cents a 
loaf.” 

A loaf of bread and a pound of rice for ten 
cents ! It seemed to Dorothy that her ten 
cents was a small fortune, she could buy so much 
with it. 

“ Aren’t those green things water cresses ? ” 
she asked the next moment, as she noticed some 
green leaves in a dish of water on the table. 

“Certain, honey, that’s jes’ what they be. 


WATER CRESSES. 


61 


Mr. Merrell’s very fond of ’em ; he wants ’em 
every day, but we can’t always get ’em.” 

“ Do you buy them ? ” 

“ Of course, honey, we don’t get nothin’ to 
eat in this house without buyin’ it.” 

“ And — and how do you buy them, what do 
you pay for them ? ” 

Fanny laughed good-naturedly. “You are 
goin’ to know all ’bout things, ain’t you, honey ? ” 
she said. “Well,” and she showed Dorothy a 
bunch of the cresses, “ I buy ’em tied up in bunches 
like this, and I pay ten cents a bunch for em’. 
Here’s your basket,” she added, as she pressed 
down the cover, “ now run home, honey, and 
don’t you forget to eat.” 

There was little need for Fanny’s injunction 
to run home. Dorothy felt like a liberated 
bird, and she almost flew home. It was a happy 
little family that gathered around Mrs. Talcott’s 
supper table that night ; for the first time in 
several weeks that table was spread with 
nourishing food enough to satisfy them all. 
When supper was over, and the little kitchen 
as neat as Dorothy could make it, she went in 
search of Rick. She found him splitting up 
pieces of old fence for kindling wood. 

“ Rick,” she said, “ won’t you come with me ? 
I want to go down to the swamp.” 

The swamp was back of the old garden, and 


62 DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 

was a part of their uncle’s property. It was a 
tangle of swamp maples, shad-flower bushes, and 
wild roses, and alder, while vines clambered 
riotously everywhere and over everything. 
Through the middle of the swamp there ran a 
stream of fresh water. The little brother and 
sister walked down to the edge of the water. 

“ Rick,” Dorothy said, “ I believe I’ve got a 
splendid plan for you. I’m not quite sure, but 
I think it will be another ship. Do you see 
those water cresses ? ” 

“ Yes, of course,” Rick answered. “ My eyes 
are as good as yours, Dorothy.” 

“ Well, I don’t believe you know what I 
know about them, if you do see them. Rick, 
do you know you can tie up bunches so big ” — 
and Dorothy measured the size with her hands 
— “ and sell them for ten cents a bunch ? ” 

“ Who’ll buy ’em ? ” Rick asked skeptic- 
ally. 

“ Why — I don’t know — but I think perhaps 
the people you carry meat to, will. Rick, let’s 
pick some of them, and then to-morrow you 
can put them in your basket, and when you go 
to Mr. Cutler’s customers with their meat you 
can ask them if they don’t want some cresses. 
Don’t you see how you can do it, Rick ? ” 

Yes, Rick saw. He saw his opportunity so 
plainly, that before Dorothy finished her ques- 


WATER CRESSES. 


63 


tion he was up to his knees in the water pick- 
ing the cresses. Dorothy held her apron for 
them, and Rick picked until his wise little 
sister said they had enough to begin with. 

They had a busy hour in the kitchen after 
that, for the cresses had to be nicely sorted, and 
bunched, and tied. Then at Mrs. Talcott’s 
suggestion Dorothy placed them in a pan full 
of cold water, and Rick set the pan in the 
cellar. 

“We must be very nice and particular, you 
know, Rick,” Dorothy said, “ for it would be 
mean to try to sell old wilted cresses. And 
we won’t ever be mean, will we, Rick ? ” 

“No,” Rick said positively, “we’ll always 
try to be good to people, just as we want them 
to be to us. My,” the little fellow said the 
next moment, with a weary yawn, “ I do begin 
to feel real tired and sleepy, Dorie. Don’t 
you?” 

“Yes,” Dorothy said, with a sympathetic 
yawn, “ I am tired, Rick, and we’ll go to bed 
pretty soon, for it’s eight o’clock. But first” — 
and Dorothy’s voice grew soft and low — “ let’s 
ask mother to let us read the Bible, and say 
Our Father.” 

Little Rick stood still, and his bright face 
looked sober and almost sad. “ I forgot,” he 
said slowly, “ and I don’t want to forget. I 


64 DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 

want to say Our Father every night. Let’s 
go right in and tell mother, Dorie.” 

Mrs. Talcott was lying on the lounge in the 
sitting room. When Rick and Dorothy came 
in she sat up and asked tenderly, “ Is your long 
day’s work done at last, my darlings, are you 
ready to go to bed ? ” 

Dorothy went to the bookcase and found a 
Bible. “We are almost ready, mother,” she 
said, “ but first, Rick and I want to read the 
Bible. You know,” she continued a little 
tremulously, as she drew close to her mother, 
“ we made up our minds last night, Rick and 
I, that we were going to be Christians — God’s 
children, you know, mother — and now we want 
to read the Bible, and say Our Father every 
night.” 

Surprise, and a deeper and tenderer feeling, 
choked Mrs. Talcott’s voice. She was a Chris- 
tian — so at least she trusted — but she had 
never thought of God as a very present help in 
all the cares and trials of her daily life. She 
had never realized all that it meant to look up 
to him in childlike confidence and say Our 
Father. 

Now she waited in silence, while Dorothy 
drew a chair up to the table, where the lamp 
was burning and opened the Bible. 

“I don’t know where to read,” she said in 


WATER CRESSES, 


65 


some perplexity, as she slowly turned over the 
leaves. “ But here is a bookmark at this 
psalm — it’s the one hundred and twenty-first — 
perhaps some one used to love to read it. 
Shall I read it now, mother ? ” 

* “ Yes, dear,” Mrs. Talcott said huskily, and 
in her sweet young voice Dorothy read,* 

“ I will lift up mine eyes unto the moimtains ; 

From whence shall my help come ? 

My help cometh from the Lord, 

Which made heaven and earth. 

He will not suffer thy foot to be moved : 

He that keepeth thee will not slumber. 

Behold he that keepeth Israel 

Shall neither slumber nor sleep. 

The Lord is thy keeper : 

The Lord is thy shade upon thy right hand. 

The sun shall not smite thee by day, 

Nor the moon by night. 

The Lord shall keep thee from all evil ; 

He shall keep thy soul. 

The Lord shall keep thy going out 

And thy coming in, 

From this time forth and for evermore.” 

Dorothy read the beautiful psalm through 
and then reverently closed the Bible. 

“ It’s all there, isn’t it, mother? ” she said in 
a moment. 

“ What, Dorothy, what do you mean, dear ? ” 

“ Why, I mean ” — Dorothy hesitated a little,- 


5 


* Kevised version. 


G6 DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 

as if her thought was too great for her to ex- 
press it in words — “I mean — don’t you see, 
mother, that everything we can want Our 
Father to be to us, that psalm tells us that he 
is. It is beautiful that we can be God’s chil- 
dren, and have him for our Father, isn’t it, 
mother? ” 

Mrs. Talcott was crying ; she could not 
speak. 

Dorothy waited a moment. “ Shall we say 
Our Father now ? ” she asked softly. 

“ Come here, both of you,” Mrs. Talcott said, 
while her tears fell fast. 

Silently the two children went to her. 

“ Say Our Father here,” she said, as she 
drew them both into her arms. 

There was a tender hush in the room for a 
minute, and then with their mother’s love — best 
earthly type of God’s great love — encircling 
them, Dorothy and Rick prayed to the Father, 
who, by all his dealings with them, was drawing 
them closer to himself. 


CHAPTER VII. 


THE LOST SHIP. 

D OROTHY’S second day with Mrs. Merrell 
was — as she told her mother — “ only yester- 
day called to-day,” but she was better acquainted 
with her duties now, and did not find them so 
irksomo. At noon, with the two children, she 
went home again. Soon Rick came running in. 
Without a word he set his basket on the floor, 
and then he thrust his hands into his pockets 
and began to chink their contents. 

“ Do you hear that ? ’’ he asked with dancing 
eyes. “ Just guess what I’ve got in my pockets, 
won’t you, Dorie ? ” 

“ O Rick,” Dorothy cried, with eyes as 
bright as his, “ have you really, really sold 
those cresses ? ” 

“ Of course I have,” Rick said in a tone of 
supreme content. “ Eight bunches, too, at ten 
cents a bunch, and here’s the money, mother,” 
and the happy boy emptied his pockets into Mrs. 
Talcott’s lap. “ I say, Dorie,” he continued 
excitedly, “ we must get all the bunches we can 

( 67 ) 


68 


DOROTUY AND HER SHIPS. 


to-niglit. Mr. Cutler’s willing I should sell them, 
and everybody that saw them this morning 
wanted them, they said they were so fresh and 
crisp. I tell you, Do, our ships are coming in 
fast, aren’t they ? ” 

“We must keep sending new ones out, Rick,” 
wise little Dorothy answered. “ You must keep 
your eyes open, and maybe you will find some- 
thing else to do beside selling the cresses.” 

“ Yes, I’ll keep a good lookout,” Rick prom- 
ised. “We must make all the money we 
can, now while the green things are growing, 
mustn’t we ? ” 

“ While the green things are growing.” 
Those words were like the fairy’s glass in 
the old story, revealing to Dorothy many 
bright possibilities for the coming summer days. 
But the quick-witted and thoughtful little girl 
did not tell all her plans just then. They would 
need time to mature, just as “ the green things ” 
would need time to grow and ripen. 

For more than a week the days went quietly 
and happily by. Rick continued to bring home 
meat, and Dorothy’s three meals, and her ten 
cents a day kept the family supplied with the 
few other articles of food they absolutely needed. 
Every morning Rick went out with a basket of 
fresh cresses, and every night he brought home 
his money, varying from fifty cents to even, on 


THE LOST SHIP, 


69 


one or two red-letter days, a dollar. He found 
a small box, nailed on the cover, and cut a slit 
in one side, and into it every night he proudly 
dropped his dimes and nickels. Then Dorie 
would have the intense delight of shaking the 
box, and making the money jingle, and Mrs. 
Talcott would smile, and Dorothy would whisper 
confidentially to her brother, “ I do believe we’ll 
be rich people yet, Rick, if nothing happens.” 

For about ten days this happy state of affairs 
lasted. Then one morning, when she was lift- 
ing the heavy baby from the bed, Dorothy un- 
fortunately let it fall. The little creature was 
not hurt, but Mrs. Merrell was frightened. 

“ You might have broken its back, Dorothy,” 
she said nervously. “ You are not strong enough 
to take care of such a large baby, and I believe 
I’ll have to find another girl.” 

That very day a stout, well-grown girl of 
fifteen was recommended to Mrs. Merrell by a 
friend, and at night, when Dorothy was ready to 
go home, she said : “ Here is your money, 
Dorothy, and you needn’t come to-morrow. 
You have been a good little girl, and I like you 
very much, but I don’t think you are strong 
enough to lift and carry the baby, and I’ve en- 
gaged a larger girl. ” 

There was much truth in what Mrs. Merrell 
said. The baby was growing strong much faster 


70 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


than Dorothy was, and the little girl’s back and 
arms were beginning to ache all the time from 
its weight. Dorothy was sensible enough to 
know that Mrs. Merrell was right, and yet she 
would gladly have continued to endure the back- 
ache. She had yet to learn that it is Love 
that wrecks some of our ships, just as it is Love 
that brings others safely into port. And now 
she thought in silent despair, “How am I to 
help Rick support the family, if I can’t earn my 
ten cents a day ? ” 

With a face that had lost all its usual bright- 
ness, she left Mrs. Merrell in the nursery and 
went down to the kitchen. 

“ I won’t carry the basket home to-night,” she 
said to Fanny. “ I’ll take my supper in a paper. 
I’m not coming here any more.” 

Fanny stopped, with a slice of bread half cut. 
“ Hey, what’s that for ? ” she asked. 

“ Mrs. Merrell doesn’t want me. She says I’m 
not strong enough,” Dorothy answered. 

Fanny nodded. “ There ain’t no disputing 
that ; it’s as true as that black never will be 
white. But it is ’sp rising how some folks never 
find out the truth till it suits their own conven- 
ience to do so. I could have tole Mrs. Merrell 
that air truth the very fust day you come here. 
Well, now, honey,” the kind-hearted woman went 
on, “don’t you be discouraged. I shouldn’t 


TEE LOST SHIP. 


71 


be a bit ’stonished if there was something a 
great deal better goin’ to come to you. The 
good Lord don’t never forget his little ones ; 
don’t you know that? Here’s your supper, 
honey, an’ now do you jes’ eat it, and don’t you 
make it bitter with anxious thoughts ’bout to- 
morrow. There’s heaps of folks that want little 
girls to wait on ’em, an’ they don’t all have 
heavy babies to tote round nuther. You jes’ 
wait, an’ I’ll see what I can do for you ’mong 
my ’quaintances.” 

Dorothy did not think it probable that Fanny 
could do much for her, but sympathy is a won- 
derful help over life’s hard places, and after she 
had heard the warm-hearted colored woman’s 
promises of help it was not quite so painful for 
her to go home and tell her sad story. Mrs. Tal- 
cott was not as much troubled by it as Dorothy 
had imagined she would be. She had feared from 
the first that her little girl’s strength was not 
equal to the demands made upon it, and now 
she was almost glad when told of her discharge. 
Mrs. Talcott was not a strong woman, either 
in mind or body, but during the last few days 
her children’s cheerful trust had touched and 
strengthened her own, and now, when, with 
many tears, Dorothy laid her head in her lap, 
she was able to speak the comforting words the 
poor child needed. 


72 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


“ Never mind, dearie,’^ she said fondly, 
“ we’ll get along some way. There’s all the 
money in Rick’s bank, you know, and then — in 
a tender whisper — “ there’s God’s bank, too, my 
child. He owns the silver and the gold. We 
must trust to him to give us all we need.” 

Dorothy looked up with a smile though her 
eyes were still dim with tears. “ I am sure 
Our Father won’^t forget us,” she said trust- 
fully. And then, with a sweet and patient, if 
not very bright, little face, she began her prep- 
arations for the simple supper she always had 
ready when Rick came home. 

Rick brought fifty cents, and a good appetite, 
and good spirits home with him, and Dorothy 
did not tell him of her trouble until they had 
eaten their supper and were on their way to 
gather the cresses. Then she said, “ Rick, I 
want to find a new ship to send out to sea. I 
am not going to Mrs. Merrell’s any more.” 

“ Why not ? ” Rick asked. 

“ Because she doesn’t want me. I’m not 
large enough,” Dorothy said simply. 

“Well,” Rick said, as he was rolling up his 
ragged trousers, preparatory to evading in the 
swamp, “ that ship’s come in pretty soon, hasn’t 
it, Dorie? But don’t you fret you can’t be a 
strong woman while you are a little girl, you 
know.” 


THE LOST SHIP. 


73 


“ No,” Dorothy said soberly, “ but while I am 
a little girl, how am I to help you support the 
family, Rick ? ” 

“ I don’t know,” Rick answered, while he 
reached a handful of cresses up to Dorothy, “ I 
don’t know what you will do next to help me, 
Dorie, but ‘Our Father’ has shown you three 
ships already ; don’t you b’lieve he’ll show you 
another pretty soon? I do.” 

Rick’s happy faith stimulated Dorothy’s. She 
dismissed her anxious fears, and that night, 
before she nestled her tired little head on her 
pillow, without one troublesome thought that 
her prayer might not be answered, she prayed : 

“ Our Father, help me to be a good child to 
thee, and help me always to feel sure that you 
will not forget to show Rick and me how to 
support the family. For J esus’ sake,” she whis- 
pered softly, and then, with the trustful 
thought, “ I know it will all be right now,” she 
dropped her burden, and slept — as the Father’s 
little ones always sleep — watched over and 
protected by him. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


THE CHEBEY SHIP. 

T he next morning Dorothy stood on the door- 
step, and watched Rick start for the butcher’s 
shop accompanied by Davie, who was — as Rick 
said — to help him carry his basket until school 
time. The door faced the east, and as Dorothy 
turned from watching her brothers and raised 
her eyes to the sky, she was almost dazzled with 
the brilliant light of the morning sun. She was 
a simple and natural little girl, but her quaint 
thoughts often seemed old for her years, and 
now as she felt the power of the sun she said to 
herself, “ It must be beautiful to be a sunbeam 
and make things bright in the world.” She 
stood a minute longer looking at the sky, and 
then she said softly, “ Things only look bright 
when the sun shines on them, and now I am 
going to turn my face toward the sunshine all 
day, and look just as bright as I can. I think 
that will please Our Father,” she added in a 
tender whisper. 

True to her bright resolve Dorothy went sing- 
( 74 ) 


THE CHERRY SHIP. 


75 


ing about the house, putting everything in nice 
order, and when the morning’s work was all done 
she sat down by Mrs. Talcott, who was lying on 
the lounge. 

“ Mother,” she said, “ Rick needs a new pair 
of trousers dreadfully.” 

“ Yes, dear, I know it,” Mrs. Talcott answered, 
with a discouraging little sigh. 

Dorothy felt the depressing influence, but she 
would not yield to it. “ Mother,” she said 
cheerfully, “ I am thinking that now I have to 
stay home, I can make Rick a pair of trousers — 
if you will help me a little.” 

“ Make Rick a pair of trousers ! ” Mrs. Talcott 
repeated, “ why, Dorothy, you cannot possibly do 
such a thing — you don’t know how. W e’ve noth- 
ing to make a pair of trousers of, either,” she 
concluded with another weary sigh. 

“ There are some old clothes up in the garret,” 
Dorothy said. “Do you know who left them 
there, mother ? ” 

“ The people who lived here before we came. 
They are such poor old things, I suppose they 
didn’t consider them worth taking away.” 

“ They may be wortli something to us,” Dor- 
othy said sensibly. “ Can’t I bring them down, 
mother ? ” 

“ Yes, if you want to take the trouble,” Mrs. 
Talcott said indifferently. 


76 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


Dorothy ran off to the garret, and in a few 
minutes reappeared with her arms full of old 
clothes. They were all very shabby and worn, 
but Dorothy examined them with eyes that 
were quick to see bright possibilities. 

“ O mother,” she said, “ here’s a pair of 
trousers that I know we can fix for Rick. They 
are a nice color, and they are not very large. 
Yoii can show me how to patch them, mother — 
they only need a very little patching you see — 
and we can take them in, and cut them off, and 
I know they will fit Rick almost as well as if 
they were made for him.” 

“ He will look as if he were wearing clothes 
that belonged to the antediluvians,” Mrs. Tal- 
cott said gloomily; but she yielded to Dorothy’s 
persuasions, and showed her how to cut and 
patch the old trousers. 

All that day Dorothy sewed patiently. Just 
before supper time her labor of love was finished, 
and with proud little hands she spread the 
trousers out on Rick’s bed. 

Rick came home with his strong young arms 
full of small packages. He had a cake of kitchen 
soap, a loaf of bread, a pound of rice, and a few 
cents’ worth of tea for his mother. 

“ O Rick, I am sorry you have to spend your 
money for bread,” Dorothy said with a note of 
regret she found it hard to suppress in her voice. 


THE CHERRY SHIP. 


77 


I am glad I can sell water cresses and so 
make money to buy bread with,” Rick answered 
manfully. 

“ Ye — es, I’m glad too,” Dorothy responded 
soberly. “ Rick,” she said the next instant in 
a brighter tone, “ go upstairs and see what’s on 
your bed. Mother and I want you to dress up 
to-night.” 

Rick ran upstairs, jumping two and three 
steps at a time, and Dorothy waited at the foot 
of the stairs. In a moment she heard his shout 
of delight. “Hail Columbia, happy land,” he 
exclaimed. “ Dorie, these trousers are good 
enough for a king ; where did you get ’em ? ” 

“ I guess I’ve had another ship come in,”^ 
Dorothy answered in a happy voice. “ Put them 
on, Rick, and come down to supper.” 

Rick obeyed. He was a-handsome little fellow, 
and now Dorothy looked at him with proud as 
well as loving eyes. 

“ Rick,” she said, “ I believe it was a good 
thing I lost my ship, and had to stay home to- 
day. You don’t know how glad I am to see 
you dressed up.” 

Rick nodded approvingly. “I know I am 
glad to be dressed up,” he said. “You see, 
Dorie, it seems, somehow, to make it easier for 
a fellow to hold his head up when he knows his 
clothes are whole.” 


78 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


“ You slia’n't ever wear ragged clothes again 
if I can help it,’’ Dorothy said decidedly. 
“ Rick,” she went on quickly, “ do you know 
I’ve been thinking about another ship to- 
day ? ” 

“ Have you ? what is it this time ? ” Rick 
asked in a pleased tone. “ I tell you, Dorie, I 
think your ships are famous,” he said as he 
looked down on his new trousers. 

“ Let’s run down to the old garden,” Dorothy 
said ; and followed by Davie, they raced down 
to the garden. 

“ I don’t see an}'- ship here,” Rick said, as he 
glanced around the weed-grown enclosure. 

Dorothy seized his hand, and led him to 
where two fine cherry trees were standing. 
“ Rick,” she said, “ look up. Do you see those 
cherries ? they are ripe, and they are as sweet as 
sugar. Don’t you believe we can sell them ? ” 

“ I should think we might ; most folks like 
cherries,” Rick replied. 

“Well, then, Rick,” Dorothy said, “when 
you go round to-morrow with your meat, you 
can ask the folks if they don’t want some 
cherries. It will be splendid if we can sell 
them, won’t it ? ” 

Rick was looking thoughtfully up into one 
of the trees. “ Dorie,” he said, “ s’pose I go 
round to-night, and see the folks ; and then, if 





P. 79 




THE CHERRY SHIP. 


79 


they want the cherries, I’ll get up to-morrow 
morning with the birds and pick them.” 

“ I guess you are always up with the birds, 
Rick,” Dorothy said gayly, “but I do believe 
your plan is a good one. You know,” the wise 
little maiden added, “ we must hurry and sell 
those cherries before the robins find them.” 

Rick ran off, and an hour later he rushed 
breathlessly into the house, “Hurrah!” he 
shouted. “They are all sold, Dorie. Every- 
body wants them — it’s what they call a poor 
cherry year, and most folks haven’t got any. 
They will give us twelve cents a quart. It 
will be great fun to pick and sell them, won’t 
it?” 

The next morning before the birds were 
twittering in their nests Dorothy and Rick were 
up. The sky was just growing rosy with the 
dawn when they ran down to the garden. 

It was pleasant work to pick the cherries, 
Rick climbed up into the highest branches of 
one of the trees, while Dorothy stood on a step- 
ladder. 

They were quick, as well as happy, little 
pickers ; and when Rick went off to the shop 
he took Davie’s little express cart, well filled 
with cherries, with him. When the trees were 
stripped entireljq and the fruit delivered to 
their customers, they summed up the result, and 


80 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


found that they had sold two and a half bushels 
of cherries. 

“Eighty quarts at twelve cents a quart,” 
Dorothy said, as she wrote the figures down on 
her slate and multiplied them. “ Why, that is 
nine dollars and sixty cents. Mother, mother,” 
and she ran with the slate to Mrs. Talcott, “ just 
think how much money we have made.” 

“ It is a good deal better than tending a baby 
at ten cents a day, isn’t it ? ” Rick said with 
great satisfaction. “ Dorothy,” the happy little 
fellow said the next minute, while he put his 
bank away in a secure place, “ I do not believe 
we will ever be really poor again, do you?” 

“We will not be if we can help it,” Dorothy 
declared with great emphasis. “ Mother,” she 
asked, after a moment’s thoughtful pause, “ how 
did we happen to get so poor? We were not 
poor a few months ago.” 

Mrs. Talcott was sitting in her rocker, watch- 
ing her children : there was a smile on her face, 
and she looked, as Dorothy had told Rick before 
supper, almost happy. Her ill-health had been 
largely due to nervousness and sleeplessness 
caused by her troubles and worries ; and since 
Dorothy and Rick had taken up the burdens 
she was too weak to bear, and had proved so 
successful in their little business ventures, 
she had gained strength rapidly. Now when 


THE CHERRY SHIP. 


81 


Dorothy asked her innocent question she thought 
a moment, and then she said : 

“ No, we were not poor a few months ago, my 
dear, and once before your dear father died — 
we were quite rich. But your father was an 
invalid for several years, he could not attend to 
his business, and when he left us and went^home 
to heaven, his affairs were found to be in great 
disorder. When everything was sold, and all 
our debts were paid, nothing was left us but a 
life-insurance of five thousand dollars. Then 
my brother — your dear uncle Roderick, you 
know — offered us this house to live in, and we 
moved here. That was nearly three years ago. 
Your uncle was a kind, good man, he loved us 
all very dearly, and he did not mean that we 
should ever want for anything. But he had 
been unfortunate in business, and had lost most 
of his property, and then he was an inventor — 
at least he was always trying to invent some- 
thing — ^and just at the time we came here he 
thought he had made something wonderful, and 
he determined to go off and try to introduce it 
into some new country. He talked about going 
to South America, but for some unaccountable 
reason I have never heard from him since he left 
home, and I do not know where he finally decided 
to'go. When he went away he thought that the 
interest on my money would support us until 
6 


82 DOBOTHT AND BEE SHIPS, 

he could return and take care of us. But my 
money was poorly invested, and five months ago 
I lost it all. I had about forty dollars in the 
house, and when that was spent we were pen- 
niless. You know the rest. If you had not 
been very brave and helpful we should be in the 
almshouse now,” Mrs. Talcott concluded tear- 
fully. 

“Don’t you suppose Uncle Rod will come 
back some time ? ” Rick asked anxiously. 

“ He will if he is alive, for we are all he has 
in the world to love, but I am afraid ” 

Mrs. Talcott could not finish her sentence. 
She buried her face in her handkerchief, and for a 
little while her children sat beside her, silent 
and sympathetic. Presently she looked up 
and tried to smile. 

“We must not be sad to-night when such a 
fine ship has just come in,” she said, with a 
brave effort to be cheerful. 

Dorothy’s young mind was at work on a per- 
plexing problem. “ Mother,” she asked soon, 
“ how did we live after that forty dollars was 
spent ? ” 

Poor Mrs. Talcott’s eyes filled again. 
“ When I had no money, I had to buy on credit 
as long as they would trust me at the stores,” 
she confessed sadly. 

“ I remember,” Dorothy exclaimed. “ The 


THE CHERBY SHIP. 


83 


baker and the butcher sent their bills, and you 
couldn’t pay them, and Mr. Jones’ clerk said 
that we owed him.” 

Mrs. Talcott sighed. “ It is very hard not to 
be able to pay my just debts,” she said 
mournfully. 

“ Rick and I will pay them, mother,” Dorothy 
said with decision. “ It does not seem honest 
to owe folks and not pay them. We will pay 
them all, won’t we, Rick ? ” 

“My dear child,” Mrs. Talcott said, “it is 
impossible for you to pay those bills. It is our 
misfortune to owe them, and some day, perhaps, 
we will be able to pay them ; but at present, if 
Rick and you can manage to earn our daily 
bread, you will do all that such young children 
can possibly do — and more than you ought to 
do,” she added sorrowfully. 

“We will pay them, though,” Dorothy in- 
sisted. “ With Our Father to help us, I am 
sure we can pay them, mother.” 

Rick was winking his eyes and wrinkling 
his smooth young forehead : he was evidently 
considering Dorothy’s proposal. 

“ I — I — heard Mr. Cutler say yesterday,” he 
said slowly, “that honest people always pay 
their debts. Now we are honest people, 
mother, and so, of course, Dorothy and I must 
pay those debts.” 


84 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


“ It seems as if God was showing us a good 
many ways to make money,” Dorothy said, in a 
thoughtful voice. “ J ust think, mother, Rick 
earns all the meat we want, and we have water 
cresses to sell every day, and we have sold the 
cherries. Why, Rick’s bank is real heavy to- 
night, and we can take out the money when- 
ever we need it. Mother” — and the young 
voice was very earnest — “ I do not believe that 
Our Father means for us to be in debt to 
people.” 

“ You make me think of a verse in the 
Bible — ‘ Owe no man anything but to love one 
another — ’ ” Mrs. Talcott said with a smile, 
though her eyes were dim with tears. 

“ That’s a good verse,” Rick said gravely. 

“Yes, it is a good verse, and let’s remember 
it always, Rick,” Dorothy said, while her eyes 
flashed, and her face glowed with the earnest- 
ness of her purpose. “We want to love people, 
but we don’t want to owe them money, and I 
believe,” the little girl whispered with her lips 
close to Rick’s ear, “ that when we pray Our 
Father to give us our daily bread, he will know 
all we mean, and all we want.” 


CHAPTER IX. 


PAYING BILLS. 

T he next morning Dorothy went about the 
house with a vjery sober face. She had 
formed a serious purpose, and as soon as she 
could, she proceeded to execute it. It taxed all 
her courage, but she never for one instant 
thought of giving it up. She waited until Rick 
had made his noonday visit, and Mrs. Talcott 
had gone to her room for her afternoon nap ; 
then, with a firm little hand she settled her old 
hat on her sunny head, and started out. 

She went first to the bakery. 

“ Have you a bill here against my mother ? ” 
she asked timidly, of the pleasant-faced woman 
who stood behind the counter, on which was 
heaped a tempting profusion of buns and cakes. 

“I don’t know — ^perhaps so — we have bills 
against a good many people,” the woman said 
with a little laugh. “ Who is your mother? ” 

“ She is Mrs. Talcott.” 

Oh — is she ? Well — yes — I know we have 
a bill against her.” 


( 85 ) 


86 'DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 

“Won’t you please to tell me how much 
it is ? ” Dorothy asked, in a voice that would 
tremble, though she tried very hard to speak 
calmly. 

“ Why, do you want to pay it ? ” the woman 
asked curiously. 

“ Yes, ma’am, just as soon as we can, Rick 
and I mean to pay it. We are supporting the 
family now, and we want to pay all our debts.” 

The woman stared at the earnest and innocent- 
looking child with eyes that softened and grew 
very dim. 

“ You supporting the family? ” she said, 
“such a little thing as you are? AYell, I 
never !” 

“ I’m not doing it alone,” Dorothy explained. 
“ Rick’s helping, and he’s doing most of it 
now,” she added with a little sigh. 

“ And how old is Rick ? ” 

“ He’s eleven years old ” 

“ Well, I never ! ” the woman exclaimed again. 

“ Won’t you please to tell me how much we 
owe you ? ” Dorothy ventured to ask once 
more. 

“ Why yes, of course, you just wait here a 
moment and I’ll go and speak to my husband — 
he’s looking over his books in the next room 
now.” 

The woman started, but in an instant she 


PAYING BILLS, 


87 


stopped, “ I guess you had better come with 
me,” she said, “ I think Mr. Brown would like 
to see you.” 

A little fearful of her interview with the big 
man she could see through the glass door 
perched on a high chair in front of his desk, 
Dorothy followed Mrs. Brown. 

“ Andrew,” Mrs. Brown said to her husband, 
“ this little girl is Mrs. Talcott’s daughter, and 
she wants her mother’s bill.” 

“ Can she pay it ? ” Mr. Brown asked shortly. 

“No, I can’t pay it to-day,” Dorothy said 
modestly, “ but Rick and I will pay it, just as 
soon as we get money enough, if you will tell 
me how much it is.” 

Mr. Brown turned over the leaves of his big 
account book. “ It’s been running some time,” 
he said, “ and it is ” — he ran his finger down a 
column — “ just ten dollars — it’s for bread, and 
cakes, and pies,” he explained to his wife. 

“ Why didn’t your mother do her own bak- 
ing, instead of buying so much? Mrs. Brown 
asked, while she looked pityingly at Dorothy. 

“ She couldn’t — ^she isn’t well — she’s been 
sick a good while,” Dorothy said soberly. 

The bill seemed very large to her, but she 
did not for a moment think of renouncing her 
purpose. 

“ I thank you very much for telling me how 


nOBOTHT AND HER SHIPS. 


much it is,” she said in a gentle but grave voice, 
“ and Rick and I will bring you the money just 
as soon as we can. We mean to be honest ; we 
don’t want to owe any man anything.” 

“ Well, I never!” Mrs. Brown exclaimed for 
the third time ; and then she leaned over the 
desk and whispered to her husband. 

Dorothy thought that her errand with them 
was accomplished, and she turned to go. 

“ Stop a moment, little girl,” Mr. Brown said 
quickly, “ you and I haven’t quite settled our 
business yet. You needn’t be frightened,” he 
continued kindly. “ I only want to talk with 
you a little while. You see,” he went on, 
while Dorothy stood meekly before him, “ I 
can’t afford to lose those ten dollars, because, 
you know, I have to pay for the flour and sugar 
I make my bread and eake of, but I’m willing 
to lose my profits, that is, all that would be left 
for me of those ten dollars after I’ve paid what 
I owe out of them. Do you understand ? ” 

Dorothy looked at him ; her sweet young face 
was a little puzzled. 

“We want to pay you ; we don’t want you to 
lose through us,” she said earnestly. 

Mr. Brown smiled, “ I sha’n’t really lose if you 
accept my offer,” he said. “ Your bill is ten 
dollars. Now I think the materials and work 
employed to make the bread, and other things you 


PAYING BILLS. 


89 


have bought of me, must have cost me about six 
dollars ; and so I am going to say that you owe 
me only six dollars, and when you bring me 
that money I’ll give you a receipt in full. That 
is ” — he explained as he watched Dorothy’s be- 
wildered expression, “ I’ll say that your bill is 
paid and you owe me nothing.” 

“ Then you will lose four dollars,” Dor- 
othy said anxiously. 

“No, I won’t,” Mr. Brown answered, “I’ll 
put that four dollars in the Lord’s bank, and 
I’ll trust him to give me good interest on it.” 
He had left his high chair now and was stand- 
ing beside the little girl. “ Do you agree to my 
proposal ? Then suppose we shake hands,” he 
said. 

Dorothy laid her hand confidingly in his. 
“ I thank you very much,” she said ; “ and 
Rick will thank you, too, and we will bring the 
money just as soon as we can : we won’t forget 
it.” 

“ I don’t believe you will,” Mrs. Brown ex- 
claimed, while Mr. Brown said gently : “ Good- 
bye, my little girl*; I wish all my customers were 
as honest as you are.” 

With a lightened heart Dorothy went on her 
way. Her next call was at the butcher’s shop. 

“ Is Rick in ? ” she asked of a boy standing in 
the doorway. 


90 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


“ No ; Rick’s out with Mr. Cutler in the 
cart.” 

Dorothy hesitated. “ Is there anybody here 
that takes Mr. Cutler’s place when he’s out ? ” 
she asked in a moment. “ I want to see some- 
body that’s very important here,’^ she ex- 
plained with much dignity. 

The boy laughed. “ I guess you’ll find 
Mr. Cutler’s partner important enough,” he 
said. “He’s here; you can see him, if you 
want to.” 

Dorothy stepped into the shop. A coarse, 
red-faced man was weighing meat in a pair of 
large scales. He looked sharply at her as she 
walked towards him. 

“Well,” he said, “have you an order for 
me?” 

“ No,” Dorothy faltered, “ I haven’t anything 
for you now, but I want to know how much we 
owe you.” 

“ Who are you ? ” 

“I’m Rick’s sister.” 

“ Oh, yes ; I know. Your mother is the 
Widow Talcott. Well, she does owe us quite a 
bill. Have you brought the money to pay it 
now ? ” 

“ No,” Dorothy said, “ I’m afraid we haven’t 
made money enough yet to pay you, but we are 
going to pay you.” 


PAYING BILLS, 


91 


“ Oh, you are ? I suppose you want me to 
let you have some meat for that fine promise, 
don’t you ? ” the man asked gruffly. 

Dorothy was frightened ; she longed to run 
away. But she stood quietly before the man, 
who seemed to her so large and rough, and said 
bravely, though her voice was a little choked, 
“No, I don’t want any meat. I want to know 
how much we owe you, please,” with an appeal- 
ing accent on the last word. 

“Well, it’s easy to tell you; for your bill’s 
been made out some time.” The man went to 
his desk and took out a folded paper. “ Here it 
is,” he said, opening it. “ Mrs. Talcott, Dr. to 
Bull, Cutler & Co.,” he began. “ Pshaw I ” he 
said scornfully, “ I needn’t read you the items. 
Here’s the bill, you can take it with you. Your 
mother owes us just eighteen dollars and sixty- 
five cents.” 

“ Thank you, sir,” Dorothy said, as she took 
the paper, and turned to leave the shop. 

The man looked after the little figure. 

“Stop,” he called, just as she reached the 
door. “ Come back here. I want to ask you 
something. Who sent you here for that bill ? ” 
he demanded, as Dorothy obeyed him. 

“ Nobody,” she stammered, for she was 
thoroughly frightened now. 

“ Then, why did you come ? ” 


92 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


“ Because — because Rick and I are supporting 
the family.” 

“ And do you think your family can live on 
unpaid bills ? ” the man asked ; but there was a 
change in his voice, it was lower and gentler. 

Dorothy’s tears were falling fast now. 

“We don’t want to have any unpaid bills,” 
she sobbed. “We want to pay them all. Rick 
and I mean to be honest.” 

“I believe you do,” the man said. “Well, 
now, stop crying, I want to ask 3^ou a question. 
How long do you suppose it would take you to 
pay that bill ? ” 

“ I — don’t — know,” Dorothy faltered. 

“ No, you don’t know ; that’s very plain. I 
suppose you think money is something like 
sand, and you can scoop it up whenever you 
have a mind to stoop for it. That is your idea, 
isn’t it ? ” 

“No,” Dorothy said now with some spirit. 
“ Rick and I know that we must make our 
money, and we are sending out ships every day.” 

“ Ships ? What do you mean ? ” 

“ Why, I mean,” Dorothy explained gravely, 
“ that Rick and I look around us every day to 
find some way to work and make money. And 
when we find work we play that we’ve sent out 
a ship, and when we get paid for our work we 
say that our ships have come in.” 


PAYING BILLS. 


93 


The man’s stern face relaxed, and he laughed 
good-humoredly. 

“ Have you had any ships come in yet ? ” he 
asked. 

“ Yes.” 

“ Tell me what they were.” 

“ Rick sells water cresses and cherries,” 
Dorothy began. The man stopped her. 

“Yes, I know that,” he said. “Rick’s a 
smart boy : he’s going to make his mark in the 
world, I believe. Now, I suppose your mother 
thinks she’s a poor woman ; but you may tell her 
that I think she’s a very rich woman to have 
a boy like Rick and a girl like you.” 

“Thank you. I’ll tell her,” Dorothy said 
simply, and once more she moved to go. 

“ Stop, I’m not through yet,” Mr. Bull said. 
“ See here, would you and Rick he willing to do 
some work for me, and pay your bill that way ? ” 

“ Oh, yes,” Dorothy said eagerly. 

“ Would you call it a ship? ” 

“ Yes, it would be a splendid ship.” 

Once more Mr. Bull laughed. “Well, I 
believe I would like to help you send out a 
ship,” he said ; “ and I’ll tell you what I’ll do. 
I’ve got seventy-five little chickens and thirty 
hens. My wife wanted to raise the chickens, 
and now she’s sick and can’t take care of them, 
and they are a great trouble and bother to me. 


94 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


Now, I know your place ; you’ve got a good 
deal of land that you can’t make any use of. 
Suppose you take my chickens. I’ll furnish the 
feed for them, and you shall take care of them. 
When you find any eggs you must bring them 
to me, and I’ll allow you one-half of the market- 
price for them. We’ll keep a strict account, 
and when the money due you for eggs is equal 
to the money due me for meat, we’ll say we are 
square. Is that a bargain? Do you think 
Rick will agree to it ? ” 

Doroth3^’s face looked so bright and happy 
that Mr. Bull began to feel well satisfied with 
himself. He was not much in the habit of 
doing generous things, and now he almost won- 
dered at the pleasure he felt when the little 
girl said joyfully : “ Yes, sir, I am sure Rick 
will like it. We love little chickens. We 
will love to take care of them.” 

“ Then I’ll bring them to-morrow morning,” 
Mr. Bull promised. “See here, Mr. Cutler 
gives Rick all the meat you want, doesn’t 
he?” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ That’s all right. You can go now.” 

Dorothy almost danced out of that shop. 
She felt almost as rich as if a ship loaded with 
gold had . really landed at her feet. Thirty 
hens, and seventy-five dear little, fluffy, chirp- 


PAYING BILLS. 


95 


ing chickens to take care of, and no money to 
be paid to Mr. Bull ! 

“ Oh, I do think Our Father is good to 
us,” she whispered gratefully to herself, as she 
skipped along the street to Mr. Jones’ store. 

“ Can I see Mr. Jones?” she asked of the 
young clerk, who gave her a careless nod of 
recognition as she stepped up to the counter. 

“There he is,” the clerk answered, as he 
pointed across the store. 

Dorothy turned ; a pleasant-faced man was 
sitting behind the opposite counter, reading a 
paper. He was not conscious of Dorothy’s ap- 
proach until she said softly, “ Good-afternoon, 
Mr. Jones.” He looked up then with a smile. 

“ What can I do for you ? ” he asked. 

“ I am Dorothy Talcott,” she said modestly ; 
“ will you please to give me mother’s bill ? ” 

“ Want to pay it, do you? Well, I am glad 
you do. I was looking at it this morning. It 
is thirteen dollars and forty-six cents.” 

Dorothy’s bright face sobered a little. The 
bill seemed very large. “ Will you please to 
write the figures for me, on a piece of paper, so 
I won’t forget them ? ” she asked. 

“ Oh — so you don’t mean to pay me now ? ” 

“No, sir, I can’t pay you to-day; but I will 
bring you the money just as soon as Rick and I 
can make it.” 


96 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


“ Oh, you have got to make it first, have 
you? Pray, how do you expect to make that 
money ? ” 

“ I don’t know — exactly. But Kick and I 
find a good many things to do, and we are 
going to save all the money we can and pay 
our debts.” 

“You are? Well, you and Rick are about 
the smallest and most energetic young business 
people I know of. I know all about Rick,” 
Mr. Jones continued pleasantly. “ He’s been 
selling water cresses and cherries lately to Mrs. 
Jones. He says you and he are supporting 
your family. Don’t you find it pretty hard 
work ? ” 

“ I suppose we should find it hard work,” 
Dorothy said, in a sweet, thoughtful voice, 
“ but Our Father is very good to us. He helps 
us to find a great many things to do.” 

“Your Father? — oh — I understand,” Mr. 
Jones said hastily. “ So you think you and 
Rick are doing a pretty good business, do 
you ? ” 

“Yes, sir. We have ships coming in and 
going out almost every day.” 

Mr. Jones stared at the little girl for a mo- 
ment, and then he threw back his head and 
laughed heartily. 

“Few merchants can say as much as that 


PAYING BILLS. 


97 


in these hard times,” he said. “ And so you 
and Rick really mean to pay that bill, do 
you ? ” 

“ Yes,” Dorothy said without a second’s hesi- 
tation. “ Rick says we will pay it, and I am 
sure we will.” 

Mr. Jones smiled. “ Is Rick still working 
for Mr. Cutler ? ” he asked. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“ What does Mr. Cutler pay him ? ” 

“ He gives him all the meat we want.” 

“ Oh — that’s something to be sure — still it 
seems to me that Rick might do better than 
that. Now I want a boy like Rick here in my 
store ; and if he will come and work for me, I 
will start him on a salary of six dollars a 
month, ^nd I will deduct fifty cents a week 
until that debt is paid. Do you think Rick 
will be willing to come on those terms ? ” 

Dorothy’s eyes sparkled like sunbeams. 

“ Yes,” she said joyously. “ He will think 
that that is the biggest ship we have had come 
in yet. Can he sell his water cresses just the 
same ? ” she asked a little anxiously. 

“ Yes, he may sell all his water cresses : I 
won’t stand in the way of his earning an honest 
penny whenever he has a chance to do so. 
The truth is, I’ve been watching Rick since he 
began to support his family, and I believe he is 
7 


98 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


one of the boys destined to go up in the world ; 
and I think ” — and Mr. Jones laughed a little 
— “I think I would like to have a hand in 
pushing him up.” 

“ Thank you, sir,” Dorothy said sweetly. 
“ Rick will try very hard to please you.” 

“Well, tell him to come to my house this 
evening, and we’ll arrange matters. Wait a 
moment” — as Dorothy was starting to go — 
“ How is your mother? ” 

“ She isn’t very well, but she’s getting 
better,” Dorothy answered. 

“ I should think she would get better, with 
two such children as she has,” Mr. Jones said, 
more to himself than to Dorothy. “ Does she 
like oranges ? ” 

“ Yes, sir, she likes them very much.” 

Mr. Jones took a paper bag and dropped a 
dozen beautiful oranges into it. 

“ Give these to your mother, with my com- 
pliments,” he said. And then, as Dorothy, al- 
most overwhelmed with her surprise and hap- 
piness, tried to thank him, he laid his hand on 
her head and said kindly : “ Don’t you worry 
any more about that bill, for Rick and I will 
take care of it.” 


CHAPTER X. 


LITTLE VENTURES. 

r a quiet country village like Daytona, there 
is always a kind and neighborly interest felt 
in other people’s affairs, and Dorothy’s and 
Rick’s brave struggles to support their family 
and keep out of the almshouse, were by this 
time well known. Strong men talked about 
the children while they lounged in the post- 
office and stores; and women talked about 
them when they met for their sewing circles, 
and afternoon teas. 

Mrs. Talcott was almost a stranger to the 
good people of Daytona. Coming there a 
widow, she had lived a very quiet and secluded 
life, and had shrunk from making acquaint- 
ances. It was well understood that she was 
Roderick Dominick’s sister, and was living in 
his house ; but beyond that little was known, 
until suddenly the whole village was excited 
by Mr. Burns’ story of her destitution, and of 
Dorothy’s determination not to go to the alms- 
house. 


( 99 ) 


100 DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS, 

The story touched and interested all who 
heard it, and accounted, in a measure, for the 
success that accompanied all Rick’s and 
Dorothy’s efforts at self-support. It was warm 
weather; the little family could get along 
comfortably if they had enough to eat; it was 
better to encourage the children to work than 
to pauperize them by giving to them ; later, 
when the winter approached, it would be 
necessary, perhaps, to give them more assist- 
ance. So the people argued, and meanwhile 
Dorothy and Rick went on making their little 
ventures wherever they saw opportunities. 

Rick went to Mr. Jones ; but it was arranged 
that he need not be in the store before eight 
o’clock in the morning. The hour between 
seven and eight Mr. Jones said he could have 
to sell his water cresses. Then Mr. Cutler, 
who had become greatly interested in the boy, 
proposed that Rick should continue to work for 
him from six o’clock until eight, and in that 
way still supply his family with meat. With a 
thankful heart Rick accepted the kind offer. 

Every morning when the town clock struck 
six the boy was at his post in Mr. Cutler’s shop; 
at eigiit o’clock he was in the store, and there 
Mr. Jones soon found him very useful. 

There were often times, during those warm, 
bright, summer days, when little Rick found 


LITTLE VENTURES. 


101 


his confinement and labors irksome ; but he 
never dreamed of shirking, or trying to evade 
his duties. And the lessons in punctuality, 
faithfulness, perseverance, and obedience that 
he was thus taught, helped to make him a 
brave, manly, self-reliant, and trustworthy boy, 
for whom every man who knew him predicted 
a bright future. So Rick’s summer went prof- 
itably, and, on the whole, pleasantly by. 

In his little home, too, things went along 
very smoothly. Mrs. Talcott’s health improved 
steadily, and by August she was able to attend 
to her light household duties. She had never 
been a very active person, but now, as she felt 
the influence of her children’s energy, she began 
to dream of ways and means by which she 
might add to their small resources. 

“ I wish,” she said aloud one August after- 
noon, “ I wish I could get some sewing to do.” 

Dorothy was ripping up an old coat she had 
found in the garret, and had coaxed her mother 
into trying to “ make over into a new coat ” 
for Rick. 

“ Mother,” she said, as she carefully ripped 
off a button, “ do you know how to work button- 
holes ? ” 

“ Certainly, Dorothy, I used to be very proud 
of my button-holes.” 

Dorothy ripped away and said nothing for 


102 


DOBOTHT AND HER SHIPS. 


a few moments ; then she threw down the old 
coat and jumped up. 

“ Mother,” she exclaimed, “ I do believe I’ve 
found a ship for you. There are Mr. Brush the 
tailor, and Mrs. Cutting the dressmaker. Don’t 
you think they would give you button- holes to 
work ? ” 

“ They might — possibly,” Mrs. Talcott said 
doubtfully. 

“ I will go this minute and ask them,” 
Dorothy said with her usual energy. 

In a few minutes she started on her errand, 
and in an hour she returned with a large bundle 
in her arms. 

“ Mother,” she cried exultantly, “ here’s the 
biggest ship for you. Mr. Brush has sent a 
whole suit for you to work the buttonholes in, 
and he will give you four cents for every 
buttonhole you work. Here’s the twist to 
work them with.” The excited little girl 
dropped her bundle and threw her arms around 
her mother’s neck. “ I am so glad, mother,” 
she cried. “ Oh, I am so glad, aren’t you?” 

Mrs. Talcott was indeed glad. She was not 
able to use her needle long at a time, but from 
that day she was seldom without work and her 
skillful fingers soon aided materially in support- 
ing the family. 

For Dorothy herself the bright summer had 


LITTLE VENTURES. 


103 


had one trying disappointment. In all Day- 
tona, there seemed to be no one who wanted the 
services of a little girl as slight as she was. It 
troubled her much that she was not able to 
earn, every day, the bread for the family, but 
Mr. Bull brought his chickens, and she had the 
great pleasure of taking care of them. 

The hens proved to be what Mr. Bull called, 
“ good layers ; ’’every week Dorothy carried him 
from eleven to thirteen dozen eggs for which — 
as he had promised — he allowed her one half 
of the market-price — which varied from ten to 
twelve cents a dozen. At the end of fifteen 
weeks he smilingly told her, that from that time 
he would have to pay her in money for the eggs 
she brought him ; and he handed her a bill, the 
copy of the one he had given her weeks before, 
and pointed to the bottom of the paper where 
Dorothy read : 

“Received from Miss Dorothy Talcott, eggs to 
the value of $18. 85, being payment in full. 

“ John Bull.” 

Dorothy’s fingers fairly danced with joy when 
she carried that receipted bill home. Long 
years after Rick found it, and showed it to Doro- 
thy’s little namesake as a proof of w'hat, with 
courage and God’s help, even a child could do. 

Soon after that bill was paid, Mr. Bull decided 


104 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


to leave Daytona, and lie sold everything he 
owned, including his poultry. But he gave 
Dorothy six pretty white “ Leghorns,” and start- 
ing with them her chickens the next summer 
were quite profitable. But before this first 
summer was past Dorothy found another ship. 

One warm dewy morning when she went out 
before six o’clock — as was her custom — to feed 
her chickens, she found the ground in the old 
garden covered with small white “ things ” that 
she said “looked like doll’s cups and saucers 
turned upside down.” They were not flowers, 
and she could not imagine what they were. 
Full of curiosity she carried one to her mother. 

“Do you know what it is, mother?” she 
asked. 

“ It is a mushroom,” Mrs. Talcott answered. 
“ Gather some for me, Dorothy, I am very fond 
of them.” 

“ Why, do people eat them ? ” Dorothy asked 
in surprise. 

“ Yes. They are considered a great delicacy,” 
Mrs. Talcott replied. 

Dorothy did not wait to ask more questions. 
Her quick intelligence at once suggested that 
what people ate they would also buy, and going 
out into the garden and uncultivated fields near 
the house she gathered every mushroom she 
could find. 


LITTLE VENTUBES. 


105 


Some of the best she reserved for her mother, 
but the others she laid carefully in a basket, and 
covered them with green grape-vine leaves. 

At eight o’clock she started out. Her first 
errand was with Mr. Cutler. 

“ Well, Miss Dorothy,” he said kindly, “ what 
can I do fo^you to-day?” 

Dorothy uncovered her basket. “Will you 
tell me what I ought to ask for these, Mr. 
Cutler ? ” she said. 

Mr. Cutler glanced at the mushrooms. “ Ah, 
he said, “ so you’ve found a new ship, have you ? 
Well, that basket of mushrooms ought to sell 
for at least one dollar. Mushrooms are pretty 
expensive delicacies, you know. See here,” he 
said, the next moment, “ you had better jump 
into my cart and ride to Cottage Grove. Perhaps 
some of the rich folks there will buy ’em — poor 
folks can’t alford to.” 

Cottage Grove was a mile from Daytona. It 
was a lovely strip of land bordering on a broad 
bay, and built up with beautiful cottages, the 
summer homes of wealthy people from the 
adjacent cities. Dorothy was very glad to 
accept Mr. Cutler’s kind offer and ride out 
to the “ Grove ” with him ; when they came 
to the first house he lifted her down from his 
cart, and she went timidly up to the kitchen 
door. 


106 DOBOTHY AND HEB SHIPS. 

“ Mushrooms,” said the bare-armed, rosy-faced 
cook, when Dorothy presented her basket. 
“Well, now, that’s jest a stroke of good luck 
for me. I was jest a-wishin’ that I had some 
mushrooms to cook with the beefsteak I’m goin’ 
to have for dinner. Here, let me take the bas- 
ket, and tell me the price, and I’ll go and speak 
to my lady.” 

She soon returned with an empty basket, and 
a crisp, new, one-dollar hill. 

“ Mrs. Lynde has taken ’em all,” she said, 
“ and you can bring us some more next week.” 

As Dorothy, with her empty basket, was cross- 
ing the lawn, two young ladies passed her with 
a few green leaves in their hands. 

“ I really do wish I could find some wild 
flowers,” one of them was saying. Dorothy 
ran on a few steps, then she stopped and looked 
around her. Cottage Grove was a new settle- 
ment ; the houses were all new, and the grounds 
were all newly laid out. The trees and shrubs 
had been, for the most part, planted that season ; 
and the few flower-beds were all devoted to coleus 
and scarlet geraniums. The sweet, bright, wild 
things, with which nature loves to make waste 
places beautiful, had all been carefully ex- 
terminated, and the broad fields adjoining the 
houses, that were now dignified with the name 
of “ lawns,” looked very bare. 


LITTLE VENTUBES, 


107 


Dorothy had quite forgotten Rick’s words, 
and her own half-formed plans about the “ grow- 
ing green things,” but now she remembered ; 
and when she picked up her basket she said 
aloud, “ I do believe I’ve found another ship.” 
The next morning when she went out for mush- 
rooms she carried two baskets. When she 
came home the second basket was heaped with 
the wild flowers she had gathered in the fields 
and meadows. 

“ I think Davie can help me sell them,” she 
said to her mother. 

It was vacation time now for Davie, and 
from that morning whenever Dorothy went to 
Cottage Grove the little fellow accompanied 
her, drawing his small express cart filled with 
dainty ferns, and the wild flowers that followed 
each other in beautiful succession through the 
summer. It was a lovely little enterprise, and, 
in a small way it proved successful-; for Davie 
had a winning face and manner, and his cart 
always came home empty. 

So the warm and pleasant summer passed by. 
With September came the chilly weather that 
prophesied of autumn. The mushrooms no 
longer dotted the fields in the mornings, the 
city people returned to their winter homes. 
Tliere was no sale now for the late flowers that 
lingered still in the sunny, sheltered spots. 


108 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


Dorothy ceased to gather them, and she began 
to fear that her ships were all in. 

They had paid the baker, and Mr. Cutler 
still supplied them with meat. Rick brought 
home his dollar regularly every Saturday night ; 
but on the simplest food, and in the plainest 
manner, a family of four could not with com- 
fort live on only a dollar a week. Of Rick’s 
money not a dollar went into the bank, and 
several times, in pressing emergencies, Mrs. 
Talcott had been obliged to draw from their 
little hoard. Now, with the coming of cold 
weather, they all needed new shoes and warm, 
thick clothes. They must have coal, too, 
now, and they would have to burn more oil, 
the evenings were growing so long and dark. 
How were all their wants to be supplied? 
Dorothy still felt the responsibility of support- 
ing the family, for though Mrs. Talcott’s health 
was now quite restored, she had, as she sadly 
acknowledged, “ no faculty for seeing ships,” and 
the burden of planning for the household de- 
volved almost entirely upon the little girl. Dor- 
othy was beginning to feel the weight — it pressed 
more heavily now that the shut-in days of the 
late autumn were at hand — and there was some 
danger that it would make her graver than a 
child of her years ought to be. But she did 
not fret or sadden her mother with useless mur- 


LITTLE VENTURES. 


109 


murs and complaints. She only looked out 
more carefully for the opportunities that might 
still lie within her reach, and when her cares 
and burdens grew too heavy for her little 
strength, she carried them to the Father, whose 
tender love was guiding her, and meekly left 
them in his hands. 

One cool October night, just before it was 
time for Rick to come home, she kindled a fire 
on the hearth in the sitting room, and then she 
sat down before it, and looked soberly at the 
ruddy flames that went leaping up the wide- 
mouthed chimney. With a patient little face 
she began to count on her fingers the things she 
felt they really needed. “ Shoes — stockings — 
flannels ” — she counted slowly ; and then she 
stopped, for with a loud “ hurrah ” Rick rushed 
into the room. 

“ Mother, Dorothy,” he shouted, “ guess 
what’s happened.” 

“We can’t guess, Rick, you’ll have to tell us,” 
Dorothy said, in a tone that, contrasted with 
Rick’s, was very sober. 

“ Well, it’s another ship,” Rick said, while he 
danced merrily around the room. “ Mr. Jones 
left his little girl sitting alone in his carriage 
this afternoon, while he ran into the store for 
something. He was in a hurry, and so he just 
dropped his reins and didn’t tie the horse, and 


110 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


old Prince thought it would be a good time to 
run away and he began to trot olf in double- 
quick time. I happened to see him, and ran 
after him and caught him. There was a great 
fuss, I can tell you,” Rick continued in his 
boyish way. “ The little girl was dreadfully 
frightened, and Mr. Jones said she might have 
been killed if I hadn’t stopped the horse.” 

Dorothy had listened with almost breathless 
interest. “ O Rick,” she exclaimed, “ how 
glad I am you saved her ! That was a beautiful 
ship.” 

“Well,” Rick said, with a happy laugh, “if 
that is a ship, here’s another one, Dorie. To- 
night when it was almost time for me to come 
home, Mr. Jones called me into his office, and 
what do you think he did? He gave me this,” 
and Rick held up a folded paper ; “ do you see 
what it is ? It’s a receipt in full for that bill, 
and that isn’t all — ^he said he’d raise my wages, 
and pay me two dollars a week now, and to- 
morrow he’d give me a new suit — coat, trousers, 
overcoat, and all the warm clothes I need for 
the winter. And he said mother must come 
down to the store to-morrow and select the suit 
for me. Isn’t that a big ship, Dorie ? ” 

“ Yes,” Dorothy said while her face and voice 
were glad with sympathy, and then, with a tiny 
hint of regret in her tone, she whispered : “ All 


LITTLE VENTUIiES, 


111 


the ships come to you now, Rick, I don’t seem 
to find any.” 

“Well, you needn’t worry if you don’t, 
Dorie,” Rick said with a pleasant sense of his 
own importance, “ for on two dollars a week I 
guess I can support the family alone now. 
Come, let’s have supper,” he added, “ and then, 
Dorie, I’ll tell you what we’ll do. We’ll open 
the bank.” 

The simple supper was soon over, and then 
the little family gathered around the table in 
the sitting room. With an air of great dignity 
Rick brought the box containing their summer 
savings and pried off the cover. 

“ Ladies and gentleman ” — with a nod to 
little Davie — ^he said gayly, “ with your per- 
mission the Talcott bank is going to break to- 
night.” And then with a swift little move- 
ment he poured the shining nickels, and dimes, 
and quarters down on the table. 

Dorothy drew a long breath. “ It does look 
like a great deal of money,” she said. “ Let 
mother count it, Rick.” 

Slowly and carefully Mrs. Talcott counted 
the little hoard. 

“Just seventeen dollars and seventy-three 
cents,” she said when she had finished. 

Dorothy and Rick did not speak at once. 

“ Did you think it would be more ? ” Mrs. 


112 


DOBOTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


Talcott asked. “ You must remember, my 
dears, that you have paid the baker six dollars 
out of your earnings, and I have had to take 
money from the bank several times to get 
things that we really needed, and then we have 
lived very comfortably all summer ; we haven’t 
wanted for anything. Truly, my children, the 
wonder is, not that you have done so little, 
but that you have done so much.” 

Dorothy’s young face looked very sweet and 
earnest, “ God hasn’t let us suffer for any- 
thing,” she said gratefully, “and I don’t be- 
lieve he ever will let us. He has been very 
good to us, hasn’t he, Rick ?” 

“ Yes,” Rick said fervently, “ I am glad we 
are his children, Dorie.” 

“ Let’s thank him, now, this minute,” Dor- 
othy said impulsively ; and without a second’s 
delay she brought the Bible. 

They were reading the Psalms in course, and, 
by one of the beautiful orderings we so often 
miscall chances, their psalm for that night was 
the thirty-fourth. 

In sweet pure tones Dorothy read : 

“ ‘ I will bless the Lord at all times — ’ ” 

Slowly and reverently the reading went on 
through the tenth verse — 


LITTLE VENTURES. 


113 


“ * The young lions do lack, and suffer hunger ; 

But they that seek the Lord shall not want any 
good thing,’ ” 

The lion — type of the greatest physical 
strength — may lack ; but God’s children — 
though weak and frail — shall want for no good 
thing- 

Dorothy could not put the beautiful lesson 
into words, but she was touched and thrilled by 
it. 

“ Let’s stop here and say, Our Father,” she 
said. And when that prayer had been offered, 
out of her full heart she whispered : 

“Our Father, I felt afraid to-night. I for- 
got about Jesus, I forgot that you loved us — I 
was afraid that we would want many good 
things, and not be able to have them this win- 
ter. Please forgive me, and help me never to 
be afraid again. Our Father, help me to thank 
you more and love you more every day. For 
our dear Saviour’s sake. Amen.” 

8 


CHAPTER XL 


ANOTHER SHIP. 



LITTLE later that evening Rick, who had 


lA. been sitting for some time in his mother’s 
rocker, with his head resting on his hand, and 
his eyes fastened on the fire, turned to Mrs. 
Talcott, who was lying on the lounge. 

“ How will we spend that seventeen dollars, 
mother ? ” he asked gravely. 

“We must spend it very carefully, Rick,” 
Mrs. Talcott answered ; “ we must buy nothing 
that is not necessary, but I suppose we must 
have some coal very soon, now that the weather 
is growing cold.” 

“ Yes,” Rick said, “ I’ve been thinking about 
that. Coal is six dollars a ton now, mother, I 
heard Mr. Jones say so to-day. I can go to the 
coal-yard to-morrow morning and order what 
you want. How much will it be, mother ? ” 

Mrs. Talcott checked a sigh, “ I think half a 
ton will be enough for us to begin with,” she 
said. “ If we are very careful we can make 
that last a good while.” 


( 114 ) 


ANOTHER SHIP. 


115 


Rick took a little account book and a lead 
pencil out of his pocket ; already the boy’s 
training in the store had made him methodical 
and business-like. 

“ Half a ton will be three dollars,” he said, 
jotting down the figures. “Well, what else 
shall we get, mother ? ” 

“ Mother wants a new pair of shoes, and so 
does Davie,” Dorothy said quickly. 

“ And so does Dorothy,” Mrs. Talcott said, 
as she glanced at Dorothy’s feet. 

“ Oh, never mind about me,” Dorothy ex- 
claimed. “ My shoes are only burst out on the 
sides ; the soles are pretty good yet.” 

“ What good will the soles do you when the 
uppers are all worn out ? ” Rick asked soberly, 
“ You needn’t say a word, Dorie, you are going 
to be minded about. I guess all your ships ought 
to bring you one pair of shoes.” 

“How much will three pairs of shoes cost?” 
Dorothy asked. 

“Mr. Jones has shoes for two dollars a pair, 
but I heard him say, that people made a great 
mistake when they bought such very cheap 
shoes. He said the soles were nothing but 
paper. But he has some for three dollars that 
he said were pretty good. I guess you had better 
buy the three-dollar ones, mother. Let me see,” 
Rick continued, rather proud of a chance to 


116 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


show his practical knowledge of arithmetic, 
“ three pairs of shoes at three dollars a pair, 
that’s nine dollars; and half a ton of coal, 
that’s three dollars. Total, twelve dollars. Sub- 
tract twelve dollars from seventeen dollars 
seventy-three cents, remainder — five dollars 
seventy-three cents. What will we get with 
that, mother?” 

Poor Mrs. Talcott could think of many 
things she wanted for her children and herself. 
Warm flannels were needed, and stockings, and 
Dorothy was in pitiful need of a new dress. In 
short it seemed to the anxious mother as if they 
needed everything, and what could five dollars 
and seventy-three cents avail towards supplying 
their necessities ? She felt too troubled to 
answer Rick’s question, but Dorothy said, “ We 
needn’t be in a hurry to spend that five dollars, 
Rick. We’ll keep it for a nest-egg, or until we 
want something we can’t possibly do without. 
Hark I ” she exclaimed the next moment, “ I 
hear some one knocking. Bring the lamp, Rick, 
and I’ll open the door.” 

“ Good-evenin’,” said a cheerful voice, as 
Dorothy opened the outside door. 

“ Why, it’s Fanny,” Dorothy cried. “ It’s Mrs. 
Merrell’s Fanny.” 

“ I jes’ reckon you’ve made a mistake there, 
honey,” Fanny said, as she sat down, after 


ANOTHER SHIP. 


117 


bowing respectfully to Mrs. Talcott. “ I is 
Fanny, but I isn’t Mrs. Merrell’s Fanny any 
more.” 

“ Why aren’t you ? ” Dorothy asked curi- 
ously. 

“ Why ? cause I jes’ done gone an’ left her, 
honey. Mrs. Merrell she’s a very nice lady, but 
she’s the drefful worryin’ sort, an’ somehow she 
don’t never seem pleased, an’ that makes it 
drefful hard to work for her. An’ then there’s 
Bob — he’s alius in the kitchen, when he ain’t 
runnin’ away, an’ it’s a great ’sponsibility to have 
to look out for him and cook too. So I jes’ 
looked out for another place.” 

“ Have you found it ? ” Dorothy asked, as 
Fanny paused for breath. 

“Yes, of course,” Fanny said, in a satisfied 
voice. “ I’ve foun’ a fine place, honey, an’ I’ve 
come to tell you ’bout it, cause I think I’ve 
foun’ a place for you too. You ’member I tole 
you I’d look out for you, don’t you ? ” 

“O Fanny, I thought you’d forgotten,” 
Dorothy exclaimed, 

“No, I don’t forget easy as that — I ain’t one 
of the forgettin’ kind,” Fanny answered. “ But, 
you see, good places for little girls like you 
can’t alius be foun’ in a hurry, honey, an’ so I 
jes’ had to wait. But to-day Mrs. Keith — she’s 
my new lady — asked me, did I know of a nice 


118 


DOBOTHY AND HEB SHIPS. 


little girl she could get to wait on her. She’s 
a city lady, an’ she ain’t never spent a winter in 
Daytona before. But young Mr. Hugh — he’s 
her only child — has jes’ gone an’ met with an 
accident — hurt his back somehow, I b’lieve — an’ 
now he’s laid up, an’ the doctor says he can’t be 
moved for a good many weeks ; an’ Mrs. Keith 
she’s jes’ makin’ all her ’rangements to stay here 
all winter. An’ when she said she wanted to 
find a little girl to wait on her and Mr. Hugh — 
she has me an’ the second girl, so you see it 
won’t be hard work for a little girl — I jes’ 
thought of you. Will you come, honey ? 
She’ll want you every day, from eight o’clock 
in the mornin’ till sundown, I reckon ; but she, 
she said she’d like you to stay home nights, an’ 
she’ll pay you one dollar an’ a half a week. I 
tole her what she’d got to pay you, honey. 
She's a very rich lady, an’ I weren’t goin’ to let 
her think you be any poor white folks she can 
jes’ have for nothin’. Do you think you’ll like 
to come, honey ? ” 

Dorothy could hardly speak, Fanny’s pro- 
posal was so unexpected, and the prospect it 
opened before her seemed so delightful. But 
she managed to thank Fanny and promised to 
go the next day to see Mrs. Keith. 

Fanny went off, well-pleased with the success 
of her errand, and then Dorothy seized Rick by 


ANOTHER SHIP, 


119 


the arm and went dancing about the room with 
him. 

“ O Rick,” she said, “ my ship’s come in at 
last, and it’s most as large as yours. Just think, 
we’ll have three dollars and a half a week. Why 
we can live like rich people on that, can’t we, 
mother ? Oh, I’ll never feel afraid — I’ll never 
feel afraid again.” 

“ Afraid of what ? ” Rick asked. 

Dorothy threw her arms around his neck, and 
pressed her lips close to his ear. 

“Afraid that Our Father will forget us,” 
she whispered. “We never will feel afraid of 
that again, will we, Rick ? ” 

The next morning Dorothy went with Rick 
to the store and bought her new shoes. With 
a very proud and happy heart she carried them 
home, and then she proceeded to dress herself 
for her call on Mrs. Keith. Her best dress — 
made two years before out of one of her mother’s 
— was a poor, old, red cashmere. It was shabby 
and outgrown, but Dorothy said cheerfully that 
“ she could crowd into it.” Her hair was golden 
brown, very abundant and inclined to curl. 
She brushed it now until it shone, and when her 
simple toilet was completed, though she looked 
like a very poor little girl, she was as sweet and 
clean as plenty of soap and water and great care 
could make her. 


120 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS, 


“ I am so glad that our Father in heaven, 

Tells of his love in the book he has given,” 

she sang while dressing ; and with the same sweet 
hymn trembling on her lips, she skipped out 
of the house, and through the street to Mrs. 
Keith’s. 

Fanny was watching for her and looked her 
over approvingly. 

“You come right ’long upstairs with me, 
honey,” she said. “ I’ll introduce you to Mrs. 
Keith, an’ don’t you feel scared-like. She’ll be 
one very hard lady to please if she don’t like 
you. I’m sure of that, honey.” 

Dorothy was not conscious of having any- 
thing to fear as she tripped through the spacious 
hall and up the wide stairs with Fanny. There 
was nothing bold nor forward about the little 
girl, but she was happily entirely free from the 
painful self-consciousness that so often makes 
young people seem awkward and embarrassed. 
In truth, of herself, as a person, Dorothy scarcely 
thought at all. All her little hopes, and 
fears, and anxieties were for her mother and her 
brothers. It was of them she thought con- 
stantly ; and now, believing that she had found 
another ship that would bring comfort and 
happiness to her dear ones, she followed Fanny 
into the beautiful room where Mrs. Keith was 


ANOTHEB SHIP. 


121 


sitting with her son, and stood quietly there 
with a modest, pretty manner, as free from dis- 
tressing bashfulness as it was from boldness. 

“ Here’s the little girl I told you of, ma’am,” 
Fanny said by way of introduction. “ I b’lieve 
she’s a good little girl, an’ her name is Dorothy 
Talcott. An’ if you don’t want me, ma’am. I’ll 
jes’ leave her here, cause I’m ’fraid my bread 
will burn.” 

“ No, I don’t want you,” Mrs. Keith said, and 
with an encouraging little nod to Dorothy 
Fanny disappeared. 

With her hands clasped, and her head a little 
bent, Dorothy stood motionless, and waited to 
be spoken to ; but Mrs. Keith did not speak at 
once. With keen eyes she looked at the little 
girl ; she saw the new, ill-fitting shoes and the 
old out-grown dress, then she noticed the uncon- 
scious grace of the child’s attitude, and then her 
eyes lingered on the bright curling hair, and the 
sunny, happy, young face. 

Presently she said, “ So you think you would 
like to be my little maid, do you, Dorothy ? ” 

Dorothy’s eyes seemed to Mrs. Keith like 
sunbeams as she looked up and said with simple 
truthfulness, “I would like it very much, 
ma’am.” 

Something about the little girl interested 
Mrs. Keith. She felt inclined to talk with her. 


122 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


“ Why do you think you would like it ? ” she 
said. “ You don't know me.” 

“ No,” Dorothy said, with a child-like earnest- 
ness, that Mrs. Keith thought very winning, 
“but Our Father knows you. I think he sent 
me to you.” 

“Your father?” Mrs. Keith said in a sur- 
prised tone. “ Why, I understood Fanny to say 
that you had no father.” 

“ God is my Father now,” Dorothy said, with 
grave simplicity. 

“ Oh — and you think he sent you here to me, 
do you ? ” 

Dorothy’s face was very bright in its happy 
confidence as she looked at Mrs. Keith. 

“ He has sent me a good many ships,” she 
said, “and I believe he has sent me this one.” 

“ Ships,” Mrs. Keith looked puzzled for an 
instant, and then her own quick imagination 
came to her aid. “So you call all the good 
things and the ‘ helps over hard places ’ 
that come to you ships, do you ? ” she said 
kindly. 

“ Yes, ma’am, don’t you think ships a good 
name for them ? ” Dorothy asked. 

“ Yes, it’s a very good name,” said a young 
man, half-buried in cushions on the lounge, who 
had been watching Dorothy with a good deal of 
interest and amusement. “ But what do you do 


ANOTHER SHIP. 


123 


when you want help very much and a ship 
doesn’t come to you ? ” 

“ Then I have to wait,” Dorothy said, with a 
sober recollection of all the long days she had 
waited since she left Mrs. Merrell. 

“ Ah, then your experience is not very unlike 
some other people’s,” the young man said, in a 
peculiar tone that Dorothy could not under- 
stand. “ Well, what do you do in those waiting 
times when your ships fail to come in ? ” 

“ Oh, I do everything I can find to do,” 
Dorothy said, with a sunny smile. 

“Make the best of delays and disappoint- 
ments, do you ? ” the young man — who to 
Dorothy was like an attractive puzzle she could 
not solve — asked now. “ W ell, that is very wise 
and right. But now, just suppose that you 
were laid up here, among these cushions, and a 
ship — in the shape of a doctor skillful enough 
to cure you — didn’t come in. What would you 
do then?” 

Dorothy looked soberly at the young man, and 
then she glanced slowly around the beautiful 
room, filled with bric-a-brac, pictures and books, 
and then she said ; “ I’d read books for one 
thing.” 

“Ah, then you are fond of books, are you ? 
Well, books do help — some. But what would 
you do for the second thing? ” 


124 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


Dorothy hesitated. The thought in her 
young heart was very sweet and very sacred to 
her. She shrank from uttering it. 

The young man smiled encouragingly. 
“ Come, tell me,” he said. “ I want to know : 
perhaps ” — in a persuasive voice — “ it will help 
me to know it.” 

Dorothy’s eyes drooped, her voice softened to 
a whisper, “ I’d trust in Our Father,” she 
said. 

“ Then you’d do a hard thing,” the young 
man said bitterly, and with a sigh he settled 
down among his cushions. 

“ Dorothy,” Mrs. Keith asked now, “ do you 
know what you will have to do here ? ” 

“ No,” Dorothy answered, “butl’m willing to 
do anything.” 

“ Do you think you would be willing to run 
upstairs, and downstairs, and into every room 
in this house, to wait on me ? ” Mr. Keith asked. 
“ You see, I am almost a fixture on these 
cushions, Dorothy, and I am constantly wanting 
books, or water, or fruit, or a newspaper. In 
short, I am apt to want a hundred things in as 
many minutes. I believe I am a pretty impa- 
tient and difficult invalid to wait upon. Now 
will you be willing to be hands and feet for me, 
and so help me to spare my mother ? I asked 
her to find a little girl to run on my errands, for 


ANOTHER SHIP. 


125 


she isn’t strong, and it’s too hard work for her,” 
and Mr. Keith looked at his mother affectionately 
while he spoke. 

Dorothy looked at the young man with a 
laughing light in her eyes. 

“ What are you laughing at, what are you 
thinking of?” Mr. Keith asked kindly. 

“ I am thinking that I will be, for you, a little 
ship, myself, if I can do all that, and I’m sure I 
can,” Dorothy said, with a happy smile. 

“ Go into the hall and wait there a moment, 
Dorothy,” Mrs. Keith said ; and when Dorothy 
had obeyed her, she said to her son : “ Do you 
think she will suit you, Hugh? Will it be 
pleasant for you to have her about you ? ” 

“ Yes,” the young man answered. “ I am 
sure it will be pleasant, mother. She is a bright 
and refreshing little thing, she isn’t an ordinary 
child. I shall enjoy having her here, for I want 
a mind to amuse and interest me, as well as 
hands to wait on me.” 

“ I am glad you are pleased,” Mrs. Keith said ; 
“ for I think, myself, that she is a very attract- 
ive child. Well, I will arrange to have her 
come to-morrow.” 


CHAPTER XII. 


THE LITTLE SHIP. 

HAT evening, after her day’s experiences 



had been all told and rejoiced over, Dorothy 
sat by the fire twisting strips of old paper into 
lamplighters. She was very quiet, and her 
young face looked thoughtful and almost sad. 

“ What is the matter with you, Doric ? ” Rick 
asked. “You are as sober as a judge. Are you 
thinking of all the nice things we can buy with 
our money this winter ? ” 

“ No,” Dorothy said, while she unwound one 
of her “ lighters ” and let it curl over her finger, 
“ I wasn’t thinking of money, Rick, I was think- 
ing about books. Oh, I do wish j^ou could see 
the books in Mrs. Keith’s house. Why, Rick, I 
didn’t know that there were so many books in 
the world. There were great cases all around 
the sides of the room that were just jammed full 
of books, Rick, and the tables were covered 
with them ; you would be happy if you could 
just look at them, Rick, they are so beautiful.” 
Rick was w’atching Dorothy, but for the mo- 


( 126 ) 


THE LITTLE SHIP. 


127 


ment he did not really see her. He was con- 
scious of nothing but the wonderful books she 
had described. 

“ Oh dear, I wish I could read some of them,” 
he said. For the minute the brave little fellow 
forgot his resolve never to speak of his own dis- 
appointments, and he turned impulsively to his 
mother. 

“ I do wish I could go to school,” he said. 
“ Mother, do you suppose I ever can go to 
school again ? ” 

“ I don’t know, Rick, you ought to go to school, 
but ” Mrs. Talcott stopped, something sus- 

piciously like a sob seemed to choke her voice. 
Rick finished her sentence. “ But I suppose I 
can’t ever go, because I’ll have to work,” he 
said hopelessly. “ Oh dear, it is pretty hard to 
know that there are so many books in the world 
and never have a chance to read any of them. 
It seems to me I’d be as happy as a king now, if 
I could only have time to study.” 

“ I am very sorry for you, Rick,” Mrs. Talcott 
said, in her tender but helpless way. 

“ It doesn’t do much good to be sorry,” Rick 
said soberly. 

“ No,” Dorothy said, in her bright hopeful 
voice, “ it doesn’t help us to just feel sorry, and 
we won’t feel sorry because we have so much to 
be glad for. But I’ve just thought of some- 


128 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


thing. If we can’t go to school, why can’t we 
study here at home evenings? You could teach 
us, mother, couldn’t you ? ” 

Mrs. Talcott was a graduate of one of the 
best New England schools, and she was very 
competent to instruct her children. Now that 
the suggestion she never would have thought 
of was made, she caught at it gladly. 

“ Why, yes, of course, I can teach you even- 
ings,” she said. “ I am glad you have thought of 
it, Dorothy. We’ll begin to-morrow.” 

“No, let’s begin to-night,” Dorothy urged. 
“ We’ll find our books, and you can give us our 
lessons now, mother, and perhaps we’ll be ready 
to recite them before we go to bed.” 

With her usual cheerful energy Dorothy 
went in search of their schoolbooks. They 
were soon found, and before bedtime their first 
lessons had been learned and recited. - 

From that time, with but few interruptions, 
the winter evenings found Rick and Dorothy 
bending over their schoolbooks. Many long 
and hard lessons were thus learned ; of them all, 
perhaps, the one that in their after lives they 
found of greatest service, was the one taught 
them by the regular, constant toil that filled 
their days — to make the most of their time, and 
to waste none of the opportunities that fell in 
their way. 


THE LITTLE SHIP, 


129 


The next morning at the appointed hour 
Dorothy appeared at Mrs. Keith’s. That lady 
received her very kindly. 

“ Before you go in to sit with Mr. Hugh, 
Dorothy, I want 3’'ou to come in here,” she said, 
and she led the little girl into her own beauti- 
ful room. 

There, spread out on the bed, lay a complete 
set of garments for a girl of Doroth^^’s size. 
Everything was there, from the long fine stock- 
ings, and pretty slippers, to the simple but 
tasteful little dress. Mrs. Keith had driven to 
the large town, ten miles from Daytona, and 
purchased them the day before, after her inter- 
view with Dorothy. 

“ Dress yourself in these clothes, Dorothy,” 
Mrs. Keith said, “and I will send Susan, the 
waitress, to show you how I want your hair 
arranged. I must have the little girl who sits 
in the room with Mr. Hugh and myself just as 
neat and sweet looking as possible.” 

Dorothy eyes sparkled, and her face glowed 
with surprise and pleasure. Before her father’s 
death she had always been prettily dressed, but 
since she came to Daytona her clothes had been 
so old and poor that, as she once said dolefully, 
“ she couldn’t even pretend that they were 
pretty r” Now she felt very much as Cinderella 
must have felt when the fairy godmother 
9 


130 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


touched her with her wand and changed her 
rags to silk. 

When her pretty toilet was finished, and in 
her soft blue dress, and dainty white apron, she 
went into the library where Mr. Hugh was 
lying among his cushions on the lounge, she 
was a bright little vision, and the tired eyes of 
the invalid smiled as he saw her. 

“Ah,” the young man said, “so you have 
really come, have you, my little ship? Well, 
what have you done since you were here yester- 
day?” 

“ I was studying last evening,” Dorothy said ; 
naming the one thing that seemed to her of any 
consequence. 

“ Studying ? — you don’t go to school — what 
were you studying, and who is your teacher ? ” 

Dorothy had taken the seat Mrs. Keith gave 
her, a low stool near Mr. Hugh’s lounge. Now 
she folded her hands and said quietly, “ Rick 
and I studied our school lessons, and mother 
heard us recite them.” 

“ Who is Rick?” 

“ He’s my brother.” 

“ And Rick loves to study, does he ? ” 

“ Yes,” Dorothy said simply. 

“ And he doesn’t go to school ? ” 

“ No, he can’t go, because, you know, he and 
I have to support the family.” 


THE LITTLE SHIP, 


131 


Mr. Hugh did not smile at Dorothy’s quaint 
words and manner. The day before, after she 
had gone home, he had sent for Fanny and had 
learned from her all that she knew about the 
little girl’s life. The story of her courage, 
unselfishness, and cheerfulness, while struggling 
with difficulties and burdens many women 
would have drooped under, had touched him 
deeply. He was just twenty-one, an only child 
and heir to great wealth. His whole life had 
been one of ease and self-indulgence. He had 
completed his college course in June, and then 
had come to his summer home in Daytona. 
He was pleasing and attractive : he had a good 
mind, and he was capable of doing good work 
for God and his fellow-men. But he had 
formed no noble plans for his future, and he 
had no high ambitions. His sole purpose in life 
— as he frankly acknowledged — was to enjoy 
himself. Through the summer he succeeded 
in accomplishing his purpose, but in September 
he met with the accident that had crippled him 
— for months at least. He had fretted much 
over what he called his imprisonment: the bright 
autumn days had been very long and weary 
ones to him. He was not a Christian, he had 
no knowledge of the Father in heaven to whom 
Dorothy looked up with such loving confidence ; 
he had no thought or desire for anything but 


132 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


the pleasures of this world, and just now those 
pleasures seemed to him all out of his reach. 
Dorothy’s childlike trust in God had only 
amused him the day before ; he had thought it 
only an imaginative child’s fancy. But in the 
long, wakeful hours of the night, more than 
once her simple words, “ Then I’d trust in Our 
Father,” had returned to him: and now — 
though he wondered at himself that it was so — 
he felt inclined to question her fai'ther. 

“ See here, little ship,” he said, when Mrs. 
Keith had left the library, to attend to her house- 
keeping duties, “ when did you make the 
acquaintance of that Father you told me about 
yesterday ? ” 

It was a strange question ; an older person 
might have thought it very irreverent. To 
Dorothy it seemed a very natural question, and 
she answered it frankly. 

“ I never knew him very well until I was in 
very great trouble,” she said. 

“ In very great trouble, hey. What was that 
trouble, my little ship ? ” 

“ W e were very poor, and mother was sick, 
and they wanted to send us to the almshouse,” 
Dorothy said simply, “ and Kick and I said we 
would support the family. And then we went 
up into the garret, and Rick brought his fiddle, 
and I took my dolls and playthings and we 


THE LITTLE SHIP. 


133 


packed them all away. It seemed just like a 
funeral. I didn’t think I ever could be happy 
again.” 

Hugh Keith did not smile at that simple 
story ; he could not smile. His true instincts 
told him that the innocent, unassuming child 
before him had passed through trials that were 
to her very bitter and sorrowful. Young as she 
was, she had accepted burdens and renounced 
joys ; and she had done it all patiently and 
bravely. Was she an ideal child, to whom such 
sweet acts were natural, or was there truly — as 
she seemed to believe — an arm around her, that 
had upheld and sustained her, was there a love 
and a power round about her, that never had 
failed her and could never forget her ? 

Hugh Keith puzzled over these questions 
for a few moments ; and then he said gently, 
“ You haven’t told me yet just how you found 
Our Father ? ” 

Dorothy was too young and too free from 
self-consciousness to hesitate about answering 
Mr. Hugh’s question. 

“ It was then,” she said gravely. “ There 
was no one to help us. Rick and I were all 
alone ; and we knelt down and said Our 
Father, and we’ve been his children ever since.” 

“Why, weren’t you his children before that 
time ? ” 


134 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


“ Yes,” Dorothy said thoughtfully, “ but we 
didn’t feel so — we didn’t know it. It is know- 
ing about Our Father that helps us, isn’t it ? ” 

“ Yes, I believe it must be,” Hugh Keith 
said, in a low, sad voice. 

“ Little ship,” he said soon, “ do you read the 
Bible much ? ” 

“ I read the Psalms and about Jesus,” Dorothy 
answered. “ I love Jesus, don’t you? ” 

“ I don’t know much about him,” Hugh 
Keith confessed. 

He never forgot the grieved expression of 
Dorothy’s face as she looked at him. 

“Don’t you know about Jesus?” she asked 
earnestly. “ Why, then, of course, you can’t 
know much about Our Father, for you know 
Jesus came that we might learn to love Our 
Father.” Hugh Keith lay back among his 
cushions. He did not speak for some time : 
suddenly he roused up. 

“ Somewhere among the books in this room 
there’s a Bible,” he said. “ Little ship, I wish 
you would find it and bring it to me. I believe 
I would like to know more about Jesus and 
Our Father.” 


CHAPTER XIIL 


A GOOD WOED, 


HEN Dorothy went home that night, she 



V f skipped through the street, feeling very 
much as a little grub might feel, that, after slow 
and weary measurings of its length upon the 
ground, suddenly finds itself floating through 
the air on gauzy wings. She had had a beauti- 
ful day — the first of many beautiful days 
that were to follow. She felt no fear now 
of the cold shut-in-winter before her. Rick 
was provided for — well-supplied, through Mr. 
Jones’ kindness, with plenty of warm clothes for 
the winter, and their combined wages, of three 
dollars and a half a week, would make their 
mother and Davie very comfortable. 

“ O Rick,” she said joyfully, as Rick met 
her at the door of their home, “ I feel just like 
a little girl again.” 

Rick laughed: he was too young to fully 
understand Dorothy, but his pleasure in her 
happiness was very great. “ I guess you’ve had 
a good day, Dorie,” he said. “ Well, I’ve had 


( 135 ) 


136 


DOBOTHT AND HER SHIPS. 


a good one too. And, Do,” he added earnestly, 
“ I do believe all o-ur days are going to be good 
ones now.” 

Rick’s belief proved to be a true one. The 
autumn passed, and the winter — so many thought 
long and dreary — set in. But Dorothy and Rick 
never thought of calling it long or dreary. To 
Dorothy, especially, every new day was a new 
delight. To wait on Mrs. Keith and Mr. Hugh 
was a pleasure of which she never tired. They 
were so kind to her, that her grateful little heart 
felt that it was a privilege to grow weary in 
their service. 

There were days when Mr. Hugh was queru- 
lous and impatient, days when he felt and acted 
like “ twenty different men each different hour,” 
and when Dorothy’s ability to be hands and 
feet for him was taxed to it& utmost. But the 
patient child never complained ; her sweet un- 
selfish nature was like a spring fed from some 
unseen source — it never failed ; it was always 
ready to give. 

But between Mr. Hugh’s nervous and fret- 
ful moods there were many bright hours, when 
he was free from pain, and thoughtful of others, 
and easy to please. Then Dorothy found him 
a kind and very helpful friend. It amused and 
interested him to hear about her lessons, and 
be gave her many a lift over the hard places in 


A GOOD WORD. 


137 


her arithmetic, and cleared away many of the 
tangles that troubled her in her walks “ through 
grammar land.” With the aid of photographs 
and a stereoscope he took her on little journeys 
about the world, and he gave her many valuable 
lessons in history and geography that she never 
forgot. Then, pleased with her intelligence 
and great desire to learn, from the library that 
had been the delight of his own young days, 
he selected books for her : — ^histories, and poems, 
with an occasional story thrown in, “ like the 
raisins scattered through a rice pudding,” he 
laughingly said. And Dorothy read, and was 
helped by her reading, as a plant is helped when 
the soil in which it grows is mellowed and en- 
riched. 

But the happiest time in the day, in Dorothy’s 
opinion, was when Mr. Hugh would ask for the 
Bible. Then, though he never asked her to 
read to him, and seldom spoke of what he read, 
Dorothy would sit beside him, feeling, as she 
once told Rick, as if she were watching a 
beautiful ship come in ; for the great desire of 
her heart now was to have Mr. Hugh learn to 
know and love the Father who was so real and 
dear to her. 

One day when Mrs. Keith had gone out, 
Mr. Hugh lay on the lounge reading his 
Bible. Suddenly he closed it, and then he 


138 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS, 


dropped back among his cushions, and sighed 
wearily. 

“ Do you want anything, Mr. Hugh ? ” Dor- 
othy asked. 

“No, nothing that you can bring me, little 
ship,” he answered kindly, and then he closed 
his eyes, and Dorothy thought that he looked 
very sad. 

Presently he said : “ Little ship, when you 
say Our Father do you find it easy to pray, 
‘ Thy will be done ’ ? ” 

“ Oh, yes, I love to say that,” Dorothy said 
with a glad little ring in her voice. 

“ You do ? ” Mr. Hugh said gravely. “ I 
wish you would tell me why ? ” 

“ Why I love to say, ‘ Thy will be done ’ ? ” 
Dorothy asked, “ why Mr. Hugh, don’t you see, 
if God is Our Father he must love us very 
much, and if he loves us, won’t he always 
want to do the best things for us, and give the 
best things to us ? ” 

“ I don’t know,” the young man said in a 
troubled voice. 

Dorothy looked at him with eyes that were 
full of pity. “ It must be very hard to live in 
this world and not feel sure that Our Father’s 
will is full of love for us,” she said softly. 

“ Yes, it is hard,” Mr. Hugh acknowledged. 
“ It is hard to do without Our Father, but 


A GOOD WORD. 


139 


sometimes, my little ship, it is very hard to 
believe in him.” 

“ What makes it so hard, Mr. Hugh ? ” Dor- 
othy asked gravely. 

“ Many things,” Mr. Hugh said bitterly. 
“ My little ship, you don’t know much about 
this world ; there is a great deal of trouble, and 
sorrow, and sin in it. Why are they in it, why 
do we have to suffer from them, if God is Our 
Father?” 

Dorothy could not answer that question, but 
it did not shadow her sunny faith. “ I am very 
sure Our Father has always been very good 
to me,” she said sweetly. 

“ You are a child,” Mr. Hugh exclaimed 
impatiently, and then, with a secret regret that 
he had expressed a doubt in her hearing, he 
hastened to say : “ I hope you will always feel as 
sure of his kindness. I hope he will never send 
you anything that you cannot accept as good.” 

“ Perhaps he won’t always give me what I 
want most,” Dorothy said thoughtfully. “ But 
then you know, Mr. Hugh, I may not always 
want the best things.” 

“ What do you suppose the best things really 
are ? ” Mr. Hugh asked. 

Dorothy thought a moment, “ I think the very 
best things must be the things that make us 
want to love God and go to heaven,” she said. 


140 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


Mr. Hugh did not answer her. He picked 
up his Bible, opened it and slowly turned over 
the leaves. 

“ Would you feel very sorry if I were to 
give up reading this book, Dorothy ? ” he 
asked. 

He never forgot the pained expression of the 
little girl’s face. “ Give up reading about Jesus 
and Our Father! O Mr. Hugh, you won’t do 
that ? ” she said pleadingly. 

“ I am afraid my reading will never do me 
any good,” Mr. Hugh said soberly. “ I find a 
great many hard things that I cannot under- 
stand in the Bible, Dorothy.” 

“ Yes,” Dorothy said eagerly. “ But Mr. 
Hugh, isn’t that because you haven’t read 
enough of it yet ? Isn’t the Bible such a wise 
book that we must study it a great deal before 
we can understand it all ? ” 

“ I wouldn’t ask to understand it all,” Mr. 
Hugh said. “ I am willing that there should be 
heights to which in this life I can never reach. 
But the Bible makes me ask a great many ques- 
tions, and then — and this is what troubles me 
— it does not answer them ; and so you see, my 
little ship, I find it hard to believe in it. And 
that ” — he paused, and then ended sadly — 
“ makes it hard for me to believe in God as 
Our Father.” 


A GOOD WORD. 


141 


“ Oil ! ” Dorothy drew a long sighing breath. 
“ O Mr. Hugh,” she pleaded, “ please, don’t 
say that.” 

“ I am sorry to say it,” Mr. Hugh confessed. 
“But when my questions are not answered, 
little ship, what can I do ? ” 

“ Can’t you go on reading, and wait for the 
answers, Mr. Hugh ? ” Dorothy asked earnestly, 
and then, with a quick recollection of one of her 
own childish experiences, she said : “ I asked 
mother to tell me something the other day, Mr. 
Hugh, and she said, I must wait, I wasn’t old 
enough to understand now.” 

“ Well,” Mr. Hugh said with a smile. 
“ What was the result, Dorothy ? ” 

Dorothy’s cheeks flushed, and she looked 
seriously at Mr. Hugh. “ I didn’t think I must 
stop loving mother because she didn’t answer 
my questions,” she said. 

“ I should hope not ; you’d have been a most 
unnatural and ungrateful little girl if you had,” 
Mr. Hugh said promptly, and then, suddenly, 
his own face flushed, for his own words, like a 
mirror, had shown him his true character in his 
relation to God. 

He did not speak again for a long time, but 
when Dorothy was leaving him for the night, 
he said gently, “ You brought me a good word 
to-day, my little ship, and I shall never forget it. ’ 


CHAPTER XIV. 


THE HOLLY SHIP. 

I T was a dreary December evening. Mrs. 

Talcott bad gone upstairs with Davie, and 
Dorothy and Rick were alone in the sitting 
room. Dorothy was sitting in a low chair, with 
her feet on the fender of the stove, studying 
her geography. 

‘‘ There, I know this lesson,” she exclaimed 
soon, and then she closed her book and looked 
at Rick. He was bending over his slate. There 
was a little pucker in his forehead, and an in- 
tent look in his eyes. 

“ Rick,” Dorothy said, “ stop studying a mo- 
ment, won’t you ? I want to talk to you.” 

“ Ye — es,” Rick said absently, wait a min- 
ute, Dorie — let me see. The greatest common 
divisor of 1492 and 1866 is ” — Rick worked 
away for a few seconds, putting down and 
rubbing out figures. Soon with a little sigh 
of relief he pushed away his slate. 

“ I’ve done that example,” he said, as he got 

up from his chair, and stretched his arms. 
( 142 ) 


THE HOLLY SHIP. 


143 


“ W ell, Dorie, what do you want to talk 
about ? ” 

“ About Christmas,” Dorothy said prompt- 
ly. “ Rick, do you know that it is almost 
here ? ” 

“ I’d be deaf, and dumb, and blind, too, if I 
didn’t know it,” Rick answered, while he drew 
his mother's rocker up to the stove, and with a 
delightful sense of ease dropped down into its 
cushioned depths. “ Everybody that comes 
into the store now wants to see and buy Christ- 
mas presents, Dorie; and sometimes” — and Rick 
drew a long breath — “ I do feel almost unhappy 
when I think that we can’t give any presents, 
not even to mother and Davie.” 

“ I am sorry,” Dorothy said in a sober voice. 
“ I wish we could buy some presents, but it has 
taken all our money to support the family, and 
buy warm clothes for Davie and mother.” 

“ You needn’t tell me that; I know it as well 
as you do, Dorie,” Rick said, with a little hint 
of disappointment in his voice. His faith in 
Dorothy’s power to overcome difficulties was so 
great, that now, as soon as he had told his 
trouble, he quite expected her to help him out 
of it. 

“ I wish we could make presents,” Dorothy 
said soberly once more, and then her voice and 
face both brightened. “ Rick,” she said, “ let’s 


144 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS, 


pretend that we are going to give presents, and 
let's decide now what they shall be.” 

“ Pretending doesn’t ever make things real,’’ 
Rick said disapprovingly. 

“ But it’s the best we can do, Rick,” Dorothy 
insisted ; “ and if we are real earnest about it, I 
believe we will find it very pleasant. Now, I’ll 
tell you what I’d like to give mother. She has 
such cold feet all the time that I would like to 
give her a pair of those warm shoes called 
‘ home comforts.’ You know what they are, 
Rick ? ” 

“ Ye — es. But what’s the use of thinking 
about it, Doric ? you know you can’t do it,” 
Rick said dolefully. 

“ Stop. Don’t spoil my pretending. I am 
thinking of such nice things,” Dorothy said, 
with sparkling e3^es. 

Rick looked at her, and smiled against his 
will. 

“ What will you give Davie ? ” he asked. 

“ Oh, a sled. A beautiful red sled, .with a 
snowbird painted on it. Davie is such a little 
fellow, it’s a pity he can’t have a sled and coast 
down hill with the other children when he wants 
to so much. Isn’t it, Rick ? ” 

“ Yes,” Rick said shortly. 

Rick was plainl}^ opposed to pretending, and 
his determination to see things as they were 


THE HOLLY SHIP, 


145 


made it hard for Dorothy to build her castles 
in the air. She was silent for a few moments, 
and then she said :: “ Rick, I’d like to give you 
a book. What book do you want most ? ” 

“ I’d like a history of Rome,^’ Rick acknowl- 
edged. ‘‘ But it won’t be any use for you to 
pretend to give me one, Dorothy. I can’t read 
a book that I only pretend to have and can’t 
really see, you know.^ 

— no,” Dorothy said regretf ully, ^ W ell,” 
she said in a moment, I don’t believe pretend- 
ing will .make it any easier for us t© do without 
the real things, Rick, but ” — and her face 
bri^tened — “ we haven^t sent out any new 
skips in a good while, have we ? ” 

No,” Rick answered, “ but we are so busy, 
Dorothy, that we couldn’t send any out even if 
we knew what to send, could we ? ” 

“ Seems to me we could,” Dorothy said 
gravely. “We might get up earlier, and sit 
up later for a iitde while, if we could find any- 
thing to do. Rick, I’ve just thought — ^lef s shut 
our eyes and try to think of everything on this 
place. Perhaps we will think of something we 
can make a ship of.” 

“ Water cresses and cherries don’t grow in 
the winter,” Rick said hopelessly. “There’s 
nothing on the place now, Dorothy, but the old 
fences, and the bare trees, and jour six hens.” 
10 


146 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS, 


“ The hens will begin to lay soon, and I can’t 
sell them,” Dorothy said ; “ but, Rick, the trees 
are not all bare. What are those three trees 
that look so green down below the old garden ? ” 

“Nothing but old prickly holly trees, Dorie.” 

“ Holly ! ” Dorothy clapped her hands. “ O 
Rick,” she cried, “ I do believe we have found 
a ship. Mrs. Keith and Mr. Hugh were talking 
to-day about Christmas greens, and they spoke 
of holly wreaths. Rick, I am sure we can make 
some wreaths — mother will show us how — and 
I believe we can sell them. I will ask Mr. 
Hugh about them to-morrow.” 

True to her purpose, the next morning, when 
Mr. Hugh laid aside his paper, and asked smil- 
ingly, “ Well, have you any hard questions for 
me to-day, my little ship ? ” Dorothy said, 
“ Will you tell me the price of a holly wreath, 
Mr. Hugh ? ” 

“ Why do you want a holly wreath ? ” Mr. 
Hugh asked kindly. 

“ I want to make some to sell,” Dorothy 
explained. 

“ Ah ! Is it another ship ? Have you the 
holly ? ” Mr. Hugh inquired, in an interested 
voice. 

“We have three holly trees on our place,” 
Dorothy said, “ and we can get plenty of leaves 
from them.” 


THE HOLLY SHIP, 


147 


“ You are a fortunate little girl. You seem 
to find ships where no one else would think of 
looking for them,” Mr. Hugh remarked. “ How 
came you to think of holly wreaths ? ” 

“ Rick and I were talking about Christmas 
last night, and we were thinking what we would 
give mother and Davie — at least I was,” Doro- 
thy said, correcting what she feared was a mis- 
statement. “ I was only pretending, because I 
haven’t any money to buy Christmas presents 
with. But pretending you can do a thing is 
pretty hard, sometimes, when you want really 
to do it very much, you know, Mr. Hugh.” 

Yes,” Mr. Hugh said soberly, “ I know.” 

“ Well, Rick didn’t like to pretend, and so I 
tried to think how we really could get the pres- 
ents for mother and Davie, and then I thought 
of the holly. Do you think we really could sell 
the wreaths, if we made them, Mr. Hugh ? ” 
“Yes,” Mr. Hugh said encouragingly. “I 
am sure you can sell them. I think I can find 
a purchaser for all you can make.” 

Dorothy uttered a quick little cry of joy. 
“ O Mr. Hugh,” she exclaimed, “ can you 
really do that ? ” 

“ Yes,” Mr. Hugh said, with a smile at her 
innocent delight, “ I have no doubt but I can 
do it. I know a good lady in the city who is 
interested in several charitable institutions, 


148 


DOBOTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


where little children are cared for; and just 
now she is full of business, planning for two or 
three Christmas entertainments. I will write to 
her to-day, and tell her about your liolly 
wreaths, and you and Rick may go to work and 
make them, for I am sure she will want them.” 

“ How many do you think she will want ? ” 
Dorothy asked, after a moment’s thought. 

“ How many do you think you and Rick can 
make ? ” Mr. Hugh asked in reply. “ I think my 
friend would take a dozen. Can you engage to 
make that number ? ” 

“ Yes, I am sure we can,” Dorothy said 
eagerly. “ Mother will help us, you know.” 

“ Well — let me think — what day of the month 
is this ? ” — and Mr. Hugh glanced at the little 
silver calendar on the table near him — “ the 
sixteenth. The wreaths would be wanted prob- 
ably by the twenty-third, and the twentieth 
will be Sunday, when you cannot work. You 
will have just five days to make them in. You 
will have to work hard, my little girl.” 

“We don’t mind hard work,” Dorothy said 
cheerfully. “ We will begin to-night, and I 
know we can get them made. What do you 
suppose the lady will pay for them, Mr. Hugh ? ” 
she asked the next moment. 

“ A pretty holly wreath in the cit}^ at Christ- 
mas is worth one dollar,” Mr. Hugh said. 


TEE HOLLY SHIP, 


149 


“ And we can make a dozen wreaths,” 
Dorothy said joyously. “ O Mr. Hugh, if we 
do sell those wreaths what a beautiful Christ- 
mas we will have ! ” 

“ What will you buy with the money ? ” Mr. 
Hugh asked. 

“ I shall give mother a pair of warm shoes, 
she has such cold feet ; and Davie a little sled, 
and a pair of rubber boots, too, I guess ; and 
Rick a book, he wants a history of Rome,” 
Dorothy said gladly. 

“ And what will you have yourself ? ” Mr. 
Hugh asked. 

“ I ? Oh, I’ll have the giving of the presents, 
and I shall feel just like Santa Claus, Mr. 
Hugh, I shall be so very, very happy,” Dorothy 
said, while her face glowed with unselfish 
pleasure. 

Mr. Hugh smiled as he watched her. “ Give 
me my writing tablet, Dorothy,” he said soon. 
“That important letter must go in to-day’s 
mail.” 

Dorothy ran home that night feeling very 
much as if she were sitting in Santa Claus’ sled 
and driving his reindeer. She met Rick at the 
door of their home, and in a few hurried words 
told him her good news. 

The short winter day was rapidly settling into 
night, but Dorothy and Rick ran immediately 


150 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


down to the holly trees and gathered leaves, as 
long as they could see. 

“I wonder if there are any people in Daytona 
poorer than we are ? ” Dorothy said that even- 
ing while, with her mother and Rick, she was 
working on the first wreath. “ If there are, we 
will try to find them and help them to have a 
good Christmas, won’t we, Rick ? ” 

Rick nodded. “We’ll try to make Christmas 
a beautiful day for every one we know,” he said 
emphatically. 

“ And we will do it because we love Jesus, 
and that will please Our Father,” Dorothv 
said, in a voice as full of gladness as the song of 
a bird. 

Rick looked at her, and smiled, and then, 
while he tied little clusters of holly leaves 
together, he whistled his favorite Sunday-school 
hymn : 

“ Wonderful things in the Bible, I see, 

This is the sweetest, that Jesus loves me.” 

“ Oh,” Dorothy exclaimed in a minute, while 
she rubbed a pricked finger, “ these leaves do 
prick dreadfully. But I don’t care if they do,” 
she added bravely. “ Rick, we are the happiest 
girl and boy in the world, I believe, don’t you ? ” 

“ Yes,” Rick said, “ I am happy now, Doric. 
I wasn’t last night when you wanted to pretend, 


THE HOLLY SHIP. 


151 


because pretending you have things doesn’t 
make it any easier to really get them; but now 
we have real work, and we will make real 
money, and give real presents, and if we aren’t 
happy now, Dorie, I don’t believe we ever will 
be happy.” 

Yes, they were truly very happy; and in after 
years they often looked back to those December 
days, when, with their young hearts full of 
Christmas hope and love, they made their holly 
wreaths. 

Mrs. Talcott worked on them during the day, 
and Dorothy and Rick worked mornings and 
evenings, and on the evening of the twenty- 
second the wreaths were finished. 

Dorothy looked at them with kindling eyes. 

“ How pretty they are,” she said, “ and how 
happy we have been making them ! I do hope 
they will help some poor people to have a happy 
Christmas. Don’t you hope so, Rick ? ” 

Rick nodded ; he was too busy to speak. With 
a good deal of effort he dragged a large box 
into the room. 

“We must pack these wreaths to-night so 
that the expressman can take them in the 
morning,” he said, in a business-like manner. 
“ Where’s the card Mr. Keith gave you to nail 
on the box, Dorie ? ” 

“ I’ll get it,” Dorothy said ; “ but — wait a 


152 DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS, 

minute, Rick. We are so kappy — and we want 
these wreaths to make other people happy — let’s 
say Our Father over them, before we pack 
them.” 

Rick laid his hammer on the table, and Dor- 
othy brought the Bible. 

“ It isn’t Christmas yet,” she said, “ but we 
feel like Christmas, and we love everybody; so 
I will read what the angels said when Jesus was 
born on the first Christmas night.” 

The little room was very still ; Mrs. Talcott 
folded her hands, and leaned back in her rocker, 
and Rick stood beside Dorothy, as in a low and 
tender voice she read the angel’s greeting of 
“ On earth peace, good will toward men.” Then 
the prayer, that, in its fulness and depth of 
meaning, is like a sea that can never be 
fathomed or exhausted, went up to the Father, 
who, in infinite love, was watching over them. 
And when an hour later Dorothy laid her tired 
little head on her pillow, her last waking 
thought found expression in the words slie 
whispered to herself, “ I am so glad Our Father 
knows how much I love and thank him because 
he is so good to us.” 


CHAPTER XV. 


THE CHEISTMAS SHIP. 

I T was the night before Christmas and Doro- 
thy stood in the kitchen door watching anx- 
iously for Rick. 

“ Did you ever know him to he so late before, 
mother ? ” she asked, in a troubled voice. 

Just then the sitting room door behind her 
opened, and the next instant, with his happy 
boyish laugh, Rick rushed up to her. 

“ Open your hand and shut your eyes, and 
I’ll give you something to make you glad, 
Dorie,” he shouted gayly. 

“ Rick, Rick, have you got it, has it come ? ” 
Dorothy asked, in a voice almost breathless with 
impatience. 

“ Yes, I guess so,” Rick answered eagerly. 
“ Here’s a letter, Dorie. Open it quick.” 

Dorothy never forgot the joy with which she 
opened that letter. It was a kind little note 
from Mr. Hugh’s friend, and folded inside of it 
was a check for twelve dollars. “ Pay to the 
order of Dorothy Talcott twelve dollars,” Doro- 

( 153 ) 


154 


LOBOTHY AND HER SHIPS, 


thy read aloud ; and then she looked doubtfully 
at her mother. 

“ Why, is this real money ? ” she asked, in an 
anxious voice. 

“ Yes, of course it is, Do,” Kick answered 
promptly, a little proud of his ’superior knowl- 
edge. “ You are only a girl, and don’t under- 
stand about business, or you would know what 
it means.” 

“ Well, what does it mean, Rick? Do tell me, 
if you know.” 

“ I’d be sorry if I didn’t know,” Rick said 
complacently. “ It means, Doric, that you must 
write your name on the back of that paper — it’s 
a check, you know — and then Mr. Jones, or any 
one who has got the money, will take it and 
give you the twelve dollars that it says you are 
to be paid.” 

“ Let’s go to Mr. Jones immediately then,” 
Dorothy said, as she went for her hat and 
cloak. 

Rick was very willing to accompany her, and 
in a few minutes, almost breathless with their 
haste, the little brother and sister entered Mr. 
Jones’s office. 

In a few words Rick told the story of the 
check. And as Mr. Jones was counting out 
the twelve dollars he said, “ You are the 
most successful little business woman in my 


THE CHBISTMA8 SHIP. 


155 


acquaintance, Miss Dorothy. How is it that 
you can always find a ship when you want 
one?” 

“I think Our Father shows them to me,” 
Dorothy said simply. 

“Ah!” Mr. Jones exclaimed, and then his 
face grew grave and almost sad. He was not a 
Christian, but more than one tender memory of 
the days when by his mother’s side he prayed 
Our Father, was stirred that Christmas Eve 
by Dorothy’s trustful words. 

“ Here is your money,” he said in a moment, 
and he handed Dorothy twelve new, crisp, one- 
dollar bills. 

Dorothy rolled the bills up carefully. Never 
in her short life had she felt as rich as she did 
at that moment. 

“ Kick,” she said, as they were running home, 
“ mother said this money was ours to spend as 
we pleased; but I think we ought to give her 
half of it, don’t you ? ” 

“ Of course,” Rick said heartily. “ Mothers 
always ought to have the biggest share of every- 
thing, I think.” 

“ So do I, Rick. Well, then, mother will have 
six dollars, and that will leave three dollars 
apiece for you and me.” 

Rick did not speak for a moment; he stopped 
running and walked so slowly that Dorothy 


156 


DOEOTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


grew impatient. “ Rick, why don’t you hurry ? ” 
she demanded. 

“ I’m thinking,” the boy answered. “ See 
here, Dorothy, I’m not going to take any of that 
money. You found the ship, you planned every- 
thing with Mr. Hugh, and I only helped you — 
just as any brother would help a sister, you 
know — and now the money is yours, and you 
are going to keep it. I’d feel so mean that I 
couldn’t enjoy Christmas if I took -any of it, 
Doric.” 

“ But you must take half of it, Rick,” Doro- 
thy insisted. “ Why, you want to make Christ- 
mas presents just as much as I do.” 

“ Perhaps I do,” Rick confessed. “ But when 
I make them, Dorothy, I won’t rob a girl to do 
it. You needn’t say another word about it, 
Miss Dorothy Talcott. That money is yours, 
and you’ll have to spend it. I won’t take one 
cent of it.” And as Rick spoke he thrust his 
hands into his pockets, as if he meant to keep 
them out of the reach of temptation. 

Dorothy did not speak again until they stood 
on the doorstep of their home, then she said 
pleadingly, “ Rick, you know mother and I 
couldn’t have made those wreaths if you hadn’t 
helped us.” 

“ Well,” Rick replied, “ what would I be good 
for if I hadn’t helped you, Doric ? It is a boy’s 


THE CHRISTMAS SHIP, 157 

place always to help a woman when he can. 
Don’t you know that?” 

“ I am glad I am going to be a woman then,” 
Dorothy said approvingly. “But see here, 
Rick, if it is a boy’s place to help women, isn’t 
it his place to do what his mother and sister 
want him to do ? ” 

Rick hesitated. “ That depends,” he said cau- 
tiously. “ Perhaps they won’t always want him 
to do right.” 

Dorothy laughed triumphantly. “ I am sure 
that what I ask of you, Rick, is right, and so 
you will have to do it,” she said. “ I’ll tell you 
how we’ll manage,” she went on cheerfully. 
“ You must help me buy the presents for mother 
and Davie ; you have had so much experience in 
the store that you understand, about buying 
things better than I do, you know, Rick.” 

Rick was softened by Dorothy’s deference to 
his superior wisdom. “ Yes,” he said, “that is 
so, Dorie.” 

“ Well, then, Rick, we’ll buy the presents 
together, and we’ll put them on the breakfast- 
table by mother’s and Davie’s plates, and we’ll 
write on them ‘ The holly ship is in, and wishes 
you a Merry Christmas ; ’ you’ll do that, won’t 
you Rick ? ” 

Rick laughed. Dorothy’s plan had given 
him a bright idea. “Yes,” he said, “I’ll do 


158 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS, 


it, Dorie, and — maybe — I’ll show you the 
ship.” 

“And then,” Dorothy continued, too intent 
on her own plans to pay any attention to Rick’s 
last words, “ if we have any money left, after 
buying our presents — and we must manage to 
save a dollar — I want to give it to a poor woman 
I heard Mrs. Keith talking about to-day. She 
has a sick husband who cannot work, and she 
has broken her right arm, and there are two 
children too young to do anything to help them- 
selves. I think,” and Dorothy’s voice was yerj 
earnest now, “ when we know of people poorer 
than we are ourselves, we ought to give them 
some of the good things Our Father has given 
to us. Don’t you think so, Rick ? ” 

Rick’s first answer was an emphatic nod. 
And then he said quaintly, “ Giving is always 
better than keeping, I believe, Dorothy, be- 
cause” — in a softer voice — “it is more like 
Jesus, you know.” 

Through all their after lives Rick and Dorothy 
never forgot the joy of that Christmas Eve. 
They had first a wonderful hour in the 
stores ; and then they had corn to pop, and 
molasses candy to make, and last of all, Davie’s 
stocking had to be filled, and hung in the fire- 
place ; where he found it, when, the next morn- 
ing long before daylight, he crept out of his 


THE CHRISTMAS SHIP, 


169 


warm bed and groped his way downstairs after 
it. 

“ There,” Rick said, as he hung the plump 
little stocking on its nail, “ I believe there is 
nothing more to do to-night.” 

“ There is just one thing more that I want to 
do,” Dorothy said seriously. 

Rick laughed good-naturedly. “You are 
always wanting to do something, Dorie,” he 
said. “ Well, what is it now ? ” 

“I want to go to Mrs. Keith’s house,” 
Dorothy said. “I want to stand under Mr. 
Hugh’s window — his room is downstairs, you 
know — and sing a Christmas hymn. He doesn’t 
sleep very well, ever, and I am afraid he will 
be very sad to-night because it is Christmas Eve, 
and he can’t help remembering how strong and 
well he was last Christmas.” 

Rick straightened his sturdy, boyish form, 
and stretched his strong, young arms. “ It 
must be very hard to be a man and not feel 
well,” he said sympathetically. 

“Yes, I don’t believe we can imagine how 
hard it is,” Dorothy said wisely. “ Well, Rick, 
if you’ll go. I’ll ask mother’s permission.” 

Mrs. Talcott’s permission was easily obtained. 
It was not late, only a few minutes past ten, 
and the night was very mild and bright. With- 
out a thought of fear Rick and Dorothy ran 


160 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


through the quiet street to Mrs. Keith’s house, 
and Dorothy led the way to Mr. Hugh’s win- 
dow. He was awake, and, as Dorothy’s sym- 
pathetic little heart had divined, he was feeling 
very restless and unhappy. 

“ Don’t talk to me about Christmas,” he said 
in a bitter voice, while he tossed wearily on his 
soft couch, “crippled as I am what joy can 
Christmas bring to me ? ” 

Just then, through the still night air, came 
the sound of sweet, young voices, singing the 
Christmas story, — 

“ The world was dark with care and woe, 

With brawl and pleasure wild, 

When in the midst, his love to show, 

God set a child.” 

There was a brief pause, those words were 
but the prelude to the song that came next ; 

“Born to-day is Christ the Child, 

Born of Mary undefiled ; 

Born the King and Lord we own : 

Glory be to God alone 
Christ is born.” 

Again there was a moment’s silence, and 
then, in tones as joyous as their words, the 
children sang, — 


THE CHRISTMAS SHIP. 


161 


“ Carol, carol, Cliristians, carol joyfully, 

Carol for the coming of Christ’s nativity ; 

And pray a gladsome Christmas for all good Christian men. 
Carol, carol, Christians, for Christmas come again : 

Carol, carol, Christians, carol joyfully.” 

Mrs. Keith went to the window. “ It is 
Dorothy and her brother,” she said. 

Mr. Hugh had neither stirred nor spoken 
during the singing ; now he said, “ Call the 
children in, mother,” and Mrs. Keith raised the 
window, and directed them to go round to the 
door. 

“ What made you think of coming here to- 
night, my little ship?” Mr. Hugh asked, just 
as the children, after being regaled with cake 
and chocolate, were going away. 

Dorothy drew closer to him. “I wanted to 
help you think of Christmas, Mr. Hugh,” she 
whispered. 

“Yes — in what way, Dorothy?” 

Dorothy look at him with her innocent, 
happy eyes. “I wanted you to think of Jesus 
and Our Father,” she whispered again. 

“ Is that the way to be happy on Christmas 
Eve ? ” Mr. Hugh asked sadly. 

“Yes,” Dorothy answered in the same low 
voice, “ because thinking of them makes you love 
everybody, and then when you love people, Mr. 
Hugh, you cannot help being happy, you know.” 


162 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS, 


Home, by the light of the Christmas stars, 
danced the happy children, and Dorothy little 
dreamed that her simple words had awakened 
in Mr. Hugh’s mind thoughts and resolves that 
made his after life one of loving service to God 
and his fellow-men. 

Christmas morning was full of glad surprises 
for the Talcott family. When, in the early 
dawn, Rick opened the outside door, he found 
on the doorstep a large basket filled with 
packages of every size and form. On a card 
attached to the basket was written, 

“ A Merry Christmas to Mrs. Talcott and her 
children from their neighbors and friends in 
Daytona.” 

With glad hands Rick dragged the basket 
into the kitchen, and then lie ran to the foot of 
the stairs. 

“ Come down,” he shouted. “ A Christmas 
ship has just come in.” 

The basket contained groceries, and fruit, 
and many useful articles that would add ma- 
terially to the comfort of the family. When 
it had been duly examined and rejoiced over, 
Rick said : “ There’s another ship on the way, 

and it wants to anchor on the breakfast-table.” 

There was a merry little ripple of laughter 


TEE CHRISTMAS SHIP. 163 

over Rick’s nonsense ; but with a serious face 
he shut them all out of the dining room. 

When at the end of an hour he admitted 
them, the room was green with its Christmas 
trimmings, and in the centre of the breakfast- 
table stood Rick’s small ship, that, with great 
pains and labor, he himself had made the year 
before. From prow to stern it was green with 
holly ; its sails were all spread, and wreathed 
with the red berries and green leaves, and from 
the masthead, beside the tiny flag that showed 
the stars and stripes, hung a holly wreathed 
banner with this inscription, — 

“The holly ship is in, and its owners wish 
you a Merry Christmas.” 

In all Daytona, that Christmas morning, 
there were no happier people than the four that 
gathered admiringly around Rick’s ship. They 
were still rejoicing over it when the expressman 
came in with a large package. 

“ I was told to bring this to Miss Dorothy 
Talcott,” he said. “ There’s nothing to pay. I 
guess it’s a Christmas present.” 

“ Another ship,” Rick shouted in wild de- 
light, while Dorothy opened the little note that 
was pinned on the package and addressed to 
her, and read aloud ; 


164 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS, 


“ My dear little Dorothy, — 

“ It has been a great pleasure to help Santa 
Claus pack these little gifts for you and your 
family, and we hope it will give you equal 
pleasure to unpack them. We wish you a very 
Merry Christmas, and are always your true 
friends, 

“ Mrs. Keith 
and 

Mr. Hugh.” 

The very intensity of her joy made Dorothy 
stand still, and gaze at her precious package, 
but Rick speedily removed its thick wrappings. 
Like the wonderful bag that belonged to the 
mother of the “ Swiss Family Robinson,” every- 
thing that could be asked for, seemed to 
Dorothy and Rick, to be in that package. 

There was a soft flannel wrapper for Mrs. 
Talcott, and a pretty little suit for Davie. Rick 
looked with happy eyes at a box of tools and a 
set of books marked for him, while Dorothy, as 
Rick tossed package after package into her lap, 
felt as if it were raining Christmas presents. 
A dress, a hat, and a cloak, with a generous 
supply of every article of clothing that a little 
girl could need, made her feel as rich as a queen 
and a good deal happier. 

Then there were boxes of candy, and pack- 
ages of fruit, and nuts, and last of all Rick held 





P. 164. 







■k- * *si». 



V 


« 


4 






THE CHRISTMAS SHIP. 


165 


up a large, square box. “ Dorie,” he shouted, 
“ this is for you ; what do you suppose it is ? ” 

Dorothy could only shake her head; so much 
had already come to her that it was simply im- 
possible for her to imagine what that last gift 
could be. 

“ I guess it’s something beautiful,” Rick 
said. “ Just hear what’s written on it.” And 
in a jubilant voice he read, — 

“A pleasant journey around the world for 
my little ship, from 

Mr. Hugh.” 

“ Do open it quick. Do,” Rick said eagerly, 
as he laid the box in Dorothy’s lap. 

With Rick’s help the box was soon opened; it 
contained a fine large stereoscope, and many 
carefully selected views of interesting and 
famous places in Europe and America. 

Through all her after life Dorothy never for- 
got the joy and gratitude that filled her heart 
that Christmas morning, as she looked at her 
beautiful presents and realized that they were 
really her own. 

“ I feel as if we were real rich people now, 
don’t you, Dorothy ? ” Rick said, as with careful 
and almost loving hands he examined his new 
books. 

“ Yes,” Dorothy said in a glad voice, as she 


166 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


unfolded, and carefully examined, and then 
proudly refolded some of her new clothes. 
“Rick,” she exclaimed in a moment, “ I don’t 
think we’ve anything in the world to wish for 
now, only ” 

“Well,” Rick asked, after a moment’s im- 
patient waiting for Dorothy to complete her 
sentence, “ what does only mean. Do ? ” 

“ Only this, Rick,” Dorothy said in a voice 
as sincere as it was glad, “ I wish we might 
help to make some of Our Father’s little 
children as happy as we are.” 

Rick stood still and looked at the gifts • 
spread out on the table. “ Dorothy,” he said, 
“let’s take the dollar you saved, and some of 
our oranges and candies and go to see that poor 
woman you told me about last night. Then 
we’ll be sharing our good things, Dorie, and ” — 
the boy added softly — “ I believe that is what 
God’s children ought to do.” 


CHAPTER XVI. 


THROUGH ONE YEAR. 


FTER the holidays, for many weeks there 



l\. was little change in Dorothy’s life. 
Every morning saw her running through the 
street on her way to Mrs Keith’s, and every 
night she went home with some pleasant story 
of something she had learned or done during 
the day. There were no clouds in her sky 
now. Ml’S. Talcott was quite well, and able by 
sewing to contribute her quota to the support 
of the little family ; they had money enough to 
provide for all their simple wants ; and with 
warm clothing, good fires, and plain, nourishing 
food, they felt and were very comfortable. 

There was good work done too in the long 
winter evenings, for Dorothy and Rick were as 
faithful to their studies as to their other duties, 
and when the spring came Rick found, to his 
great satisfaction, that they were far in advance 
of the boys and girls of their own age, in the 
public school. But every winter must run its 
course and yield to the spring, and so this 


( 167 ) 


168 * 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


winter passed, and with the coming of the first 
warm April days Mrs. Keith be-gan to talk of a 
changfe for Mr. Huofh. He was mnch better 
now, he was able to walk about the house, and 
to take short drives in an ea'sy' carriage. He 
was surely recovering; he had only to be 
careful, the doctor said, and in another year he 
might hope to be as well and strong as he was 
before his accident. But a sea voj^age and a 
summer spent at one of the German springs 
would be without doubt a great benefit to him. 

To Mrs. Keith the doctoi'^s opinion was a law 
that at any cost must be obeyed. They must go 
to Europe-, she decided, and preparations for 
their speedy departure began at once. 

It was with a very sober face that Dorothy 
listened while Mrs. Keith and Mr. Hugh talked 
over their plans. She was glad and thankful 
that Mr. Hugh was recovering, but the knowl- 
edge that he was going away, and that her 
pleasant life with him would soon be ended, 
caused her many sad hours ; and then, too, she 
had to consider what she should do when they 
were gone, to add to the family’s resources. 
“ I must find another ship,” she said to herself ; 
and forthwith her active mind began to question 
the possibilities of many little schemes. 

One day, when she was helping Mr. Hugh 
arrange the books in the library, she found 


THROUGH ONE YEAR. 


169 


among some old pamphlets a gayly-colored plant 
catalogue. She examined it curiously for a few 
moments, and then impelled by a new thought 
she asked : 

“ Mr. Hugh, can little boys and girls do any- 
thing with land?” 

“ Yes,” Mr. Hugh answered ; “ a boy or girl 
who owns a little piece of land can have a 
pretty flower garden with a little care and work.” 

With a thoughtful face Dorothy went on with 
her work. Presently she said : 

“ Mr. Hugh, we have a good deal of land 
around our house. Do you think Rick and I 
could do anything with it ? To make money, I 
mean,” she added gravely. 

Mr. Hugh understood. “ Are you looking for 
another ship?” he asked. “ Well, Dorothy, I 
shouldn’t be surprised if you have found one. I 
am sure there are some flowers that you might 
cultivate, and sell, and find very profitable. 
There isn’t any florist in Daytona, is there ? ” 

“ No,” Dorothy answered. 

“ And in the summer there are three or four 
large hotels crowded with city people, who would 
be very glad to buy flowers if they were offered 
to them,” Mr. Hugh said thoughtfully. “ Why, 
Dorothy, here is a fine business opportunity that 
nobody seems to have seen yet, and I hope you 
will be able to improve it.” 


170 


DOROTUY AND HER SHIPS, 


Dorothy's face was bright with hope. “ We 
have an old garden, and we might fill it with 
flowers,” she said sensibly. “ I wonder, Mr. 
Hugh, what flowers we had better begin with ? ” 

“ I’ll ride home with you to-night and look at 
that old garden,” Mr. Hugh promised, “ and 
then we’ll decide about the flowers ; but I think 
now that I shall start you with carnations and 
sweet peas. How will they do ? ” 

Carnations and sweet peas ! Before Dorothy’s 
eyes a garden beautiful in fragrance and color 
seemed to bloom ; and the thought that she 
would own it made her supremely happy. But 
she only said gratefully, “ Thank you, Mr. 
Hugh.” 

“ So you are satisfied with my choice ? ” Mr. 
Hugh said with a smile, as he watched her face. 

“ Oh, yes,” Dorothy said thankfully. “ I have 
been feeling so troubled about my next ship, 
Mr. Hugh,” she explained, “ and now it seems 
as if Our Father was going to give me a very 
beautiful one, and it makes me very happy.” 

Mr. Hugh looked a little concerned. “ I am 
sorry you have been feeling troubled about your 
future,” he said. “ I wish I had told you before 
about my mother’s plans for you. You re- 
member the lady you made the holly wreaths 
for, Dorothy ? ” 

“Yes,” Dorothy said, while her eyes sparkled 


THEOUGH ONE YEAR. 171 

with the beautiful memories associated with 
those wreaths. 

“ That lady is my mother’s cousin,” Mr. Hugh 
continued. “ She is very rich, and has no 
children. She would be glad to have you live 
with her, Dorothy. You will have a beautiful 
life with her ; she will educate you, and treat 
you just as if you were her own little daughter. 
Will you go to her, Dorothy? She has been 
corresponding with my mother about you for 
some weeks. I’d forgotten it when we first 
spoke of the garden ; but if you go to her Rick 
can have the garden, and I will give him all the 
seeds and plants. Well, Dorothy, what is your 
answer, will you go ? ” 

“And leave mother, and Rick, and Davie? 
Mr. Hugh, I couldn’t go! ” And to Mr. Hugh’s 
surprise Dorothy burst into tears. 

“ So you had rather stay here, with your 
mother and Rick, and work hard, than go away 
and live like a little princess with a lady who 
will love you as if you were her own child ? ” 
Mr. Hugh spoke seriously. “ Think about it, 
Dorothy; you needn’t decide now.” 

“ But I have decided,” Dorothy said passion- 
ately. “ Thinking won’t make any difference, 
Mr. Hugh. I love my mother and brothers, I 
don’t want to leave them.” 

“ Then you shall not leave them,” Mr. Hugh 


172 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


said, glad in his inmost heart that the promise 
of ease and luxury could not tempt the child. 

“ I will tell my cousin that she cannot have you, 
and we will do our best with the old garden.” 

“ You are very good to me, Mr. Hugh.” 
Dorothy said, as she wiped away her tears. 

The smile with which Mr. Hugh watched the 
little girl was touched with many thoughts, but 
he only said : “ The ship that brings good 
ought to carry good away, I think,” and that 
answer made Dorothy very happy. 

True to his promise, before Mr. Hugh left 
Daytona, Dorothy’s garden was prepared, and 
the sweet peas planted. The carnations, gera- 
niums, heliotropes, and other delicate plants, 
that might be injured by late frosts, he ordered 
a florist in the city to send her a few weeks 
later. But not content with this provision for 
their little favorite, Mr. Hugh and his mother 
called on the pastor of the church that Mrs. 
Talcott and her children attended, and re- 
quested him to keep them acquainted with the 
circumstances of the family. 

“ Don’t let them want for any comfort, and 
draw upon us whenever they need assistance,” 
they said. And then trusting that they had 
secured Dorothy from suffering and trouble, 
they bade her a kind good-bye.. 

For a few days after their departure Dorothy 


THROUGH ONE YEAR, 


173 


felt very lonely, and it was fortunate for her 
that in her home she found many little cares 
and duties to fill her time and interest her 
mind. The garden was an unfailing source of 
pleasure. Every morning, before he went to 
the store, and at night when he returned, Rick 
and Dorothy walked through it ; and great was 
their rejoicing when the sweet peas first peeped 
above the ground. In May the plants Mr. 
Hugh had ordered for her arrived; and then 
the real garden work began. It was pleasant 
and healthful work, and they never tired of it. 
No weeds were allowed to intrude, every plant 
was watched and cultivated with most loving 
care, and when the summer came the old garden 
satisfied all Dorothy’s beautiful dreams. The 
last of June they began to pick their sweet peas ; 
they sold them for five cents a bunch, and they 
learned the “ power of littles ” when in the 
early autumn they counted their flower money, 
and found that they had made ninety-eight 
dollars and sixty-five cents. 

They had not neglected their other sources of 
revenue ; with their cherries, water cresses, and 
mushrooms they had done well. They had 
money enough to meet all their small expenses, 
and Dorothy confided to Rick that she was as 
happy as Cinderella when she found that the 
glass slipper fitted. 


174 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


“ I only want one thing now,” she said one 
afternoon in September, as she stood by the 
window watching for Rick. 

“And what is that, Dorothy? ” Mrs. Talcott 
asked. “You shall have it, if it is possible for 
us to get it for you.” 

“ It isn’t for myself,” Dorothy answered. “ It 
is for Rick, mother. Don’t you think he can 
leave the store now and go to school ? ” 

“ He ought to go,” Mrs. Talcott acknowl- 
edged ; “ but I am afraid we should find it very 
hard to do without his wages, my dear.” 

“Yes, I know that, mother,” Dorothy said 
with the seriousness of a woman. “ But we have 
one hundred dollars in our bank now, and if we 
are very economical I think we can live on 
that. Let’s try to live on it, mother,” she 
pleaded. “ Let’s send Rick to school and make 
a wise man of him — like Mr. Hugh, you know, 
mother.” 

“ And what will you do ? ” Mrs. Talcott asked. 
“ You are as fond of studying as Rick is. Don’t 
you want to go to school with him ? ” 

“ Yes, I would like to go,” Dorothy con- 
fessed; “but I can wait. Perhaps I will have 
time to study when I am a woman, but Rick 
will be a man then, and he will have to work. 
Let’s give him the chance now, mother, and 
maybe — ” and the bright young face was full of 


THROUGH ONE YEAR. 


175 


hope — “ maybe I’ll find a ship that will take the 
place of his wages.” 

“I am sure I don’t know what it will be,” 
Mrs. Talcott said anxiously. 

“ Neither do I,” Dorothy acknowledged. 
“ But,” she added trustfully, “ I am sure Our 
Father will show me something I can do, and 
we will tell Rick to-night that he can go to 
school, won’t we, mother ? ” 

Mrs. Talcott hesitated. 

“ Please, mother? ” Dorothy coaxed. 

“Well — ^ye-es — since you want him to go 
so much,” Mrs. Talcott said slowly. 

Just then Rick ran through the gate. Dorothy 
sprang to the door to meet him. “ Rick,” she 
said joyously, “ I’ve got good news for you. 
You are going to leave the store and go to 
school.” 

Rick stood still, his boyish face flushed, and 
his eyes sparkled. But in a moment he asked 
soberly : “ Who says I’m going to school ? ” 

“ Why, mother and I say so.” 

“ Then you’ll be left to support the family 
alone,” Rick said. “No, I shan’t go to school, 
Dorie. A boy ought to work and support his 
sister. I’d be a pretty mean fellow, I think, if 
I went to school and left you to work for me.” 

“ A boy who goes to school, and gets a good 
education, can support his family, and take 


176 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


care of his sister ever so much better than the 
boy can who doesn’t go to school, and doesn’t 
get an education,” Dorothy said, with a wisdom 
far beyond her years. “ Rick, you will go to 
school, for mother and I have decided that you 
shall go ; and when you are a man, and have 
plenty of money, you can send me to school.” 

Rick felt the force of Dorothy’s arguments. 
He began to falter in his self-denying purpose. 
“ I shall be a man in a very few years,” he said 
proudly, “ and then, Dorothy, I will send you to 
school and give you everything you want.” 

“And I can still study with you at home, 
every evening,” Dorothy answered, more mind- 
ful — as she always was — of her present oppor- 
tunities than- of the possibilities of the future. 

Dorothy’s unselfish plans for Rick were car- 
ried into effect as soon as possible, and the next 
Monday, to both his and her great delight, he 
returned to school. 

That afternoon, while Mrs. Talcott and Dor- 
othy were busy with their sewing, the sitting 
room door was opened without ceremony, and 
Mrs. Stevens, one of their nearest neighbors, 
walked in. 

“ How do you do, Mrs. Talcott? ” she said in 
an embarrassed manner. “ I found your front 
door unlocked, an’ so I jest stepped right in. 
I want to see you about something.” 


THROUGH ONE YEAH. 


177 


Dorotby brought a chair, and with a «igh, tha4i 
denoted a troubled mind, the good woman 
dropped down into it. 

“ Yes, I want to see you about something,” 
she repeated, after a few questimis about her 
health and the weather had been asked and an- 
swered. ^‘You see, Mrs- Taloott, I have got 
something for you.” And as she spoke she gave 
Mrs. Talcotta letter that she had been nervously- 
crumpling in her hand. I’m drefPul sorry 
about iV’ she said. “You ought to have had it 
most four years ago. It ain’t my fault — as I can 
see — and still I do feel kinder responsible, and, as 
I said before, I’m drefful sorry, but I s’pose,” — 
with a nervous little laugh — “ it might better 
come late than never.” 

During this long preamble Mrs. Talcott had 
opened her letter. There was a .startled and 
almost frightened expression on her face. 

“It is from my brother,” she exclaimed. 
“What does it mean? Where did you get 
it?” 

“ I’ll tell you jest as soon as you’ve read it,” 
Mrs. Stevens promised, and as well as she oould, 
in her great excitement, Mrs. Talcott read the 
letter, first in silence, and then aloud to Doro- 
thy, who was almost as excited as her mother. 

The letter was written nearly four years be- 
fore in New York Ditj, and it ran thusj 
12 


r 


178 


BOEOTHY AND BEE SHIPS, 


“ My dear Sister : 

“ My arrangements are at last all made, 
and I take the steamer to-morrow and go direct 
to Argentine, South America. I have secured 
several important agencies, and I think I can 
say safely that my business prospects look 
very bright. I have just met Sim Stevens; 
he will return to Daytona to-night, and I am 
going to send this letter by him, for you 
will receive it from him several hours earlier 
than you could through the mail. When I left 
home I did not know what my address would 
be, but now that, with some other troublesome 
questions, is happily settled. Direct all your 
letters to Casa Columbo, Plaza Isabella, Buenos 
Ayres, Argentine, South America, and I shall 
be sure to receive them. 

“I will write you as soon as I arrive in Bue- 
nos Ayres. 

“ Good-bye, my dear sister; may our heavenly 
Father guard and bless you and the darling 
children. 

“ Always your affectionate brother, 

“ Roderick Dominick.’" 

“ Where, oh where, did you find this letter ? ” 
Mrs. Talcott demanded excitedly. 

Mrs. Stevens drew a long breath. “ I’ll tell 
you all about it,” she said. “It’s too bad that 
you have been kept waiting for it so long, but 
I do hope you won’t blame neither me nor Sim, 
Mrs. Talcott. 

“ You see, when Sim came home that night — 


THROUGH ONE YEAR. 


179 


I remember it all jest as if it was yesterday — 
he was very tired, and he didn’t feel like taking 
no extra steps ; so he takes out that letter, and 
calls our boy Tom — Tom was indentured to us, 
you know — and he gives it to him and tells him 
to bring it direct to you. Well ” — with a long 
breath — “ that was most, in fact I don’t know 
but it is full four years ago ; an’ from that night 
to this, Mrs. Talcott, we ain’t never thought 
about that letter — ’cepting that we did ask Tom 
when he came in that night if he’d delivered it, 
an’ he said he had. I remember that we asked 
him that question, Mrs. Talcott, an’ then, of 
course, when he said ‘ Yes,’ so prompt an’ 
honest-like, we supposed it was all right. We 
might have known better though” — Mrs. Ste- 
vens acknowledged dolefully — “for I’ve always 
said that Tom ought to write stories he has such 
a gift for lying.” 

Mrs. Talcott did not speak, and Mrs. Stevens 
went on with her apologies. “Well, you see, 
we didn’t know what was in that letter. Mr. 
Dominick didn’t tell Sim anything about his 
plans, an’ when I asked Sim where he was going, 
he tried to think, an’ then he said it was some 
outlandish place he hadn’t never heard of be- 
fore, and he couldn’t remember the name. You 
know Sim never did have no head for gography 
—all the world is a blank to him, I b’lieve, 


180 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


’cepting jest this place where his own house 
stands — so I s’pose it ain’t strange that he 
couldn’t recollect them foreign names that you’ve 
jest read. But I do hope,” Mrs. Stevens added 
anxiously, “that you won’t feel hard towards 
us, Mrs. Talcott, for it does seem to have been 
one of them strange happenings we sometimes 
hear about, that everybody is sorry for and 
nobody can help.” 

“ Well, — but where did it come from now? ” 
Mrs. Talcott asked impatiently. 

“ Why, if you’ll believe me, Mrs. Talcott, it 
come out of that boy’s coat — jest where it’s been 
all these years. You see there was a rip in the 
lining of that coat, and Tom must have dropped 
that letter into the rip instead of into his pocket 
— Sim says he once lost some money that way 
— so I s’pose it ain’t no uncommon thing for 
such a mistake to be made — but be that as it 
may, I s’pose the fact is, that when Tom felt in 
his pocket for the letter, and couldn’t find it, he 
jest made up his mind that the easiest way out 
of the trouble would be to lie about it. You 
see it never was any trouble for him to tell a 
lie, any more than it’s trouble for a bird to sing. 
Well, the coat was pretty well worn out, and 
cold weather was coming, and in a few days 
Tom put on his winter suit, and that coat was 
packed away in the garret, with other old things 


TBEOUGH ONE YEAR, 


181 


that I was saving to make rag carpet of. I’ve 
had so much to do all these years that I ain’t 
never seen the time when I could settle down to 
my carpet rags until this fall ; an’ to-day when I 
was ripping up that old coat I found that letter, 
an’ I do assure you, Mrs. Talcott, I didn’t give 
it a chance to get lost again. I jest dropped 
everything an’ brought it to you.” 

“ You were very kind, and I am very much 
obliged to you,” Mrs. Talcott said. 

Mrs. Stevens looked grave. “ I must own 
that I don’t know as you’ve much reason for 
being obliged to me,” she said. “ I do suppose 
that Sim an’ me ought to have known better 
than to trust a boy that we knew wasn’t trust- 
worthy with an important letter. Still you 
know we did mean to do right, Mrs. Talcott, an’ I 
s’pose what we ought to do now is not to mourn 
over its having been lost, but to rejoice because 
it’s found.” 

“ You are right, and I do rejoice over its 
being found,” Mrs. Talcott said. But when, 
after a few more apologies, Mrs. Stevens 
departed, she looked soberly at her daughter and 
said : “ After all, this letter has come too late 

to do us any good, I am afraid, Dorothy. It 
does not account for your uncle’s silence. Our 
not writing was no excuse for his not writing. 
And ” — Mrs. Talcott concluded sadly — “ I am 


182 DOBOTHY AND HER SHIPS. 

sure lie never would have made it an ex- 
cuse.” 

“ Perhaps he has written and his letters have 
been lost,” Dorothy suggested comfortingly. 
“ Let’s write to Uncle Rod immediately, mother,” 
she urged, and in another minute she had paper 
and pen and ink ready for her mother’s use. 

But poor Mrs. Talcott’s hands were trembling 
and her eyes were dim with tears. “ 1 cannot 
write until I am more composed,” she said ; “ but 
you may write, dear, and I will try to write a 
postscript.” 

Dorothy had no fearful forebodings to cloud 
her happiness. “ I feel just as if I had found 
another ship, mother,” she said gayly, and then, 
in her earnest impulsive way, she grasped tlie 
pen and gave her whole mind to the writing of 
her letter. 

“ Will this do, mother ? ” she asked, after a 
long time, in which only the scratching of her 
pen had broken the silence. 

“ Read it to me,” Mrs. Talcott said, and draw- 
ing close to her mother’s side Dorothy read : 

“ My dear Uncle Rod, 

“ Ever since you Avent away mother has 
wondered why you did not write to her. She 
said she could not write to you because she 
did not know where you were. . 

“ You see. Uncle Rod, the letter you sent by 


THBOUGH ONE YEAR, 


183 


Mr. Stevens got lost in Tom’s coat, and mother 
never knew about it. But this afternoon Mrs. 
Stevens found it, and brought it here, and now 
mother has read it, and I cannot tell you, dear 
Uncle Rod, how sorry we feel about it. We 
know you must have wanted to hear from us, 
and we would have written you a great many 
letters if we had only known where to send them. 
Mother says, though, that this long-lost letter 
doesn’t explain your silence, and she is very un- 
happy about you. She does want to hear from 
you dreadfully, and she is afraid you are not 
living ; but I feel very sure that Our Father has 
taken care of you. 

“ I cannot tell you all that has happened to us 
since you went away. We had a great deal of 
trouble once, for mother was sick, and we lost 
our money, and a man wanted to send us to the 
almshouse ; but Rick and I found a good many 
ships — that is, ways to make money, 3^ou know 
— and so we supported the family, and mother 
got well, and now we are very comfortable. I 
wish you could see Rick, Uncle Rod ; he is going 
to school now, and I do think he is a splendid 
boy. 

“ Won’t you come home as soon as you get this 
letter, please. Uncle Rod? You needn’t stay 
away any longer to make money, for I know 
Our Father will help me to find a ship big 
enough to support you as well as the rest of the 
family. We all love you. Uncle Rod, and we 
all want you to come home. 

“ I feel just as if this letter was a ship, and I 
think it is the best ship I ever sent out, for the 


184 


LOnOTEY AND EER SEIPS, 


others were all sent out to make monej, but I 
send this one. Uncle Rod, to bring you home, 
and it is loaded with love from mother, and 
Rick, and Davie, and me. 

“ Good-bye, dear Uncle Rod, do come soon. 

^ Your loving niece, 

‘‘ Dorothy Talcott.’^ 

“'Will it do, mother ? ’’’ Dorothy asked again 
when she had finished reading her letter. 

Yes,” Mrs. Talcott siiid, with the sigh with 
which she too often punctuated her sentences. 

Well, then, mother, you write now,” 
Dorothy said, as she brought the writing mater- 
ials to her mother. 

But Mrs. Talcott did not take the offered 
pen. “ I cannot write,” she said, “ I do not be- 
lieve your uncle will ever receive that letter, 
Dorothy.” 

“ Yes, he will,” Dorothy said hopefulh^ 
“I am sure Our Father will not let this letter 
get lost, mother, and it must go in the next 
mail.” 

Mrs. Talcott shook her head, but, undisturbed 
by her mother’s fears, Dorothy sealed and 
directed her letter. Then with a delightful 
sense of importance she carried it to the office 
and asked the postmaster for a stamp for a letter 
that was to go to South America. 

With great care she put the stamp on the 


mnOUGH ONE YEAB. 


185 


right-hand corner of the envelope, and when she 
was satisfied that it was fastened securely, and 
could not be lost off, she gave her letter to the 
postmaster. 

“ How long will it take it to go to South 
America ? ” she asked. 

The postmaster glanced at the address. 

“ Going to Argentine, is it ? ” he said. “ W ell, 
if it goes direct from New York it will be just 
one month on the way. But frequently the 
mails for Argentine are sent first to England ; 
and when that happens it is sometimes longer 
before a letter reaches its destination.” 

“ And it will take just as long for a letter to 
come from Argentine to us ? ” 

“ Yes,” the postmaster said indifferently. 

Dorothy’s face lost some of its brightness. 
“ Then it will be two or three months before we 
can hear from Uncle Bod. Oh dear, I wish this 
world wasn’t quite so large,” she thought 
soberly. 

With a better comprehension than she had 
ever had before of the vast distances that often 
in this life separate dear friends, Dorothy was 
leaving the office, when a written notice posted 
on the wall attracted her attention. 

It was an advertisement for a boy to act as 
janitor of a small chapel in Daytona that was 
used principally for evening meetings. The 


186 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


duties required of the janitor were all specified. 
He would have to make the fires, attend to the 
lamps, ring the bell, and keep the chapel in per- 
fect order. 

Dorothy read the notice, and then she walked 
thoughtfully out of the office. 

“ Rick and I can do that work,” she said to 
herself. “ I am not sure that it is another ship, 
but I do hope that it is. They pay one dollar 
a week, and that, with the money we have now, 
will make us very comfortable all winter. Oh, 
I do hope it’s a ship.” 

The longer Dorothy considered the possibility 
of its being a ship, the stronger her hope became ; 
and instead of going home she decided to go at 
once to the trustee of the chapel and apply for 
the janitorship. 

She found Mr. Gordon, the trustee, at home. 
He received the little girl kindly, but he looked 
both amused and doubtful as she explained her 
errand. 

“ You are very young,” he said. 

“ But we are growing older all the time. I 
was thirteen in the summer, and Rick is twelve,” 
Dorothy answered, in an earnest but very modest 
manner. “ And I am sure we can do the work 
if you will try us, Mr. Gordon,” she added 
wistfully. 

Mr. Gordon smiled, and then he leaned back 


THROUGH ONE TEAR. 187 

in his chair, and studied the little girl’s face for 
a few moments. 

“ Well,” he said presently, “ I believe I will 
give you a trial, Dorothy. I know something 
about you and Rick. I believe you never neg- 
lect your duties, and so, though you are very 
young, I think it will be safe to try you.” 

“We will be very faithful,” Dorothy prom- 
ised gratefully. 

“ I feel sure that you will be,” Mr. Gordon 
said. “Now,” he added, for he was something 
of a moralist, “ I want you and Rick to remem- 
ber always that a reputation for faithfulness is 
like a stepping-stone in a brook, it will help you 
over many hard places.” 

With the chapel-key in her hand Dorothy 
went home ; and from that time, though the 
autumn evenings might be dark, and cold, and 
stormy, the people who attended the meetings 
in the little chapel always found it in spotless 
order. Rick kindled the fires, and rang the bell, 
and Dorothy took charge of the lamps, and 
swept and dusted the chapel. 

It was plain and homely work, but the spirit 
in which Dorothy performed it made it beauti- 
ful. She was glad it was church work. “ Be- 
cause,” she said to Rick, “ it is doing something 
for Our Father and his other children as well as 
for ourselves.” And so she polished her lamp 


188 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS, 


chimneys, until they shone like crystal, and 
dusted the chapel, until even the most critical 
eyes could detect no specks; and doing her work 
in this spirit, she formed habits of neatness, and 
thoroughness in the performance of little duties, 
and loving, unsparing effort in serving others, 
that won for her at the time many friends, and 
made better and happier all her future life. 


CHAPTER XVIL 


THE LAST SHIP. 

I T was the night before Thanksgiving, and in 
Mrs. Talcott’s quiet home the chair was not 
only set for Thankfulness but Thankfulness 
was already in the chair. The little sitting 
room was warm and bright, and as in woodsy 
places the air is sometimes sweet with hidden 
violets, so here the atmosphere seemed sweet 
with the fragrance of contented hearts. It was 
a pretty home-picture that the firelight shone 
upon that night ; the little family group looked 
so free from anxious cares. Mrs. Talcott was 
resting on the lounge, Davie was drawing 
pictures on his slate, and Rick and Dorothy 
were bending over their books. 

For some time no one in the room had spoken, 
but presently Rick pushed aside his history. 

“ I am tired,” he exclaimed. “ Don’t let’s 
study any more to-night, Dorothy. To-morrow 
will be Thanksgiving. Let’s begin it now.” 

“What does Thanksgiving mean?” Davie 

( 189 ) 


190 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


asked, while he dropped his slate in his sudden 
interest in a new thought. 

Rick laughed. “ Why it means giving 
thanks,” he explained. 

“ What for ? ” Davie demanded next. 

“Why, for everything, Davie. For all the 
blessings — they are good things, you know — 
tliat we have.” 

“ Have we many good things to be thankful 
for ? ” Davie asked, with his childish face 
bright with innocent inquisitiveness. 

“ Well, I should say we had,” Rick an- 
swered with much emphasis. “ We couldn’t 
count them all if we tried, Davie.” 

“But why don’t we try to count them?” 
Davie asked seriously. 

“ Let’s try to count them now,” Dorothy 
said eagerly. 

“ What will be the use, Dorothy ? ” Rick 
asked with a sleepy yawn. 

“ Why, to make us more thankful. Come, 
Rick, you needn’t pretend that you are sleepy. 
We really are going to count our blessings.” 

“Who’ll begin?” Davie asked, while his 
little face beamed with the glad expectation of 
hearing something new. 

“ Rick will. Come, Rick,” Dorothy coaxed, 
— for Rick had shut his eyes, and was appar- 
netly blind and deaf to all around him — “ do 


THE LAST SHIP. 


191 


wake up, and tell us what you have to be 
thankful for to-morrow.’’ 

Rick yawned once or twice, but then, with a 
good-natured laugh, he opened his eyes and 
straightened himself in his chair. 

“Well,” he said thoughtfully, “I am thank- 
ful that we are able to support the family, and 
have a comfortable home, Dorothy, and I am 
thankful, too, that 1 am going to school, and am 
at the head of my class.” 

“ I am thankful for that, too,” Dorothy said, 
while she looked at Rick, with eyes as proud 
as they were loving. “Well,” and she turned 
smilingly to her little brother, “ what are you 
thankful for, Davie ? ” 

“ Oh, I can tell you what Davie is thankful 
for,” Rick said teasingly. “ He is thankful 
because to-morrow will be a holiday, and h^ 
won’t have to go to school.” 

“ Yes, and because we are going to have 
turkey for dinner,” Davie added, while his eyes 
danced in anticipation of the promised treat. 

“ And what is mother thankful for ? ” Dor- 
othy asked. 

Mrs. Talcott sat up and looked at her children 
with a happy smile. “ I am thankful for my 
children,” she said tenderly. 

“ And I guess we are thankful for our 
mother,” Rick said with loving impulsiveness. 


192 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


“ Come, Dorothy, it is your turn now. What 
are you thankful for ? ” 

“I believe I am thankful for everything,’’ 
Dorothy answered. 

“That won’t do,” Rick declared. “Every- 
thing doesn’t mean any one particular thing. 
What is the best thing you are thankful for? 
Tell us that, Dorothy.” 

Dorothy hesitated, her cheeks flushed, the 
light in her bright eyes deepened. 

Rick watched her impatiently. “ Come, 
Dorie,” he said, “ I know you are thinking of 
something, what is it ? ” 

Dorothy’s smile was very sweet as she looked 
at Rick. “ I am thankful for mother, and 
Davie, and you,” she said, “ and I am thankful, 
too, for all our ships. But, Rick, I believe I 
am thankfulest of all because we know about 
Our Father.” 

“ And Jesus,” Davie added solemnly. 

“ Yes, I couldn’t be thankful for Our Father 
and not be thankful for Jesus too,” Dorothy 
said, with a little ring of true joy in her voice. 

“ I believe God’s children do have everything 
to be thankful for,” Rick said thoughtfully. 
“ How good he has been to us since the night 
we packed our things away in the garret, 
Dorie ! How many ships he has sent us ! ” 

“ Yes,” Dorothy said gratefully. “ I thought 


THE LAST SHIP. 


m 


that night that we would never be happy again; 
and we have been happy all the time, haven’t 
we ? ” 

“ And our ships have come, one after the other, 
just as fast as we needed them,” Kick added 
his face all aglow with pleasant memories. 
“ I wonder what our next one will be, Dorie, 
don’t you ? ” 

“ I wish it might be Uncle Rod, or a letter 
from him,” Dorothy answered. “ Mother,” she 
asked after a moment’s silence, “ don’t you think 
we will liave a letter soon ? ” 

“ I hope so, my dear,” Mrs. Talcott answered ; 
but her tone denoted that she had really no hope. 

“ Perhaps a letter will come to-morrow,” Kick 
said. “ If it does it will be a Thanksgiving ship, 
won’t it, Dorie ? ” 

“ Yes,” Dorothy said briefly, for her mother’s 
hopeless manner had surprised and sobered her. 

The shadow of a nameless fear seemed to 
darken the room just then, and Rick felt it. “ I 
have just thought of something,” he said 
gravely. “ Suppose Uncle Rod should come 
home to-morrow and should be very poor and 
sick.” 

Mrs. Talcott sighed. “ If he ever does come, 
I imagine it will be in that way,” she said. 

“ But we would rather he came that way than 
not to come at all,” Dorothy exclaimed. 

13 


194 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


Rick nodded. “ Yes,” he said, “ we all want 
him to come, no matter how miserable he may- 
be. And we will all try to make him happy and 
comfortable, won’t we ? I will tell you what I 
will do for him,” the boy continued earnestly, 
“ I will stop going to school, and I will ask Mr. 
Jones to give me a place in his store again.” 

Dorothy looked very serious. Rick’s words 
had suggested possibilities that she had never 
thought of. 

“ O Rick,” she said in a troubled voice, “ we 
can’t let you stop going to school — you mustn’t 
think of stopping— and I don’t really believe it 
will be necessary for you to stop,” she went on 
more cheerfully, “ for you know I am going to 
help mother sew this winter, and so I am sure 
that I can take care of Uncle Rod. Oh, I do 
wish he would come. I believe he is all we 
need to make us perfectly happy now.” 

“ Yes,” chimed in Davie, “ we do want him, 
and if he will only come we will give him all 
the turkey he wants to-morrow, won’t we ?” 

There was a little laugh over Davie’s gener- 
osity, and then Mrs. Talcott said : “ Come, 
children, it is time you went to bed.” 

“We must say Our Father first,” Davie, 
said ; and Dorothy brought the Bible. 

They were reading in the Epistles now, and 
that night, by one of the beautiful orderings of 


THE LAST SHIP. 


195 


tlie loving Providence, that always gives the 
bread just when it is needed, their chapter con- 
tained the precious command — 

“ Be careful for nothing ; but in everything 
by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving 
let your requests be made known unto God.” 

“ ‘ Careful for nothing ’ — because Our Father 
will take all the care,” Dorothy said with a 
happy face as she closed the Bible. “ Then 
we needn’t feel anxious and troubled about 
dear Uncle Rod, for God will take care of him, 
as well as of us. Oh, how thankful I am that 
we are God’s children.” 

The next day was cold and very stormy. “ It 
isn’t a bit like Thanksgiving weather,” Rick 
said a little glooniily, as he and Dorothy were 
on their way home from church. 

Dorothy laughed as she ran on through the 
pelting rain. “We will have to make our own 
sunshine to-day,” she said, “ but I guess we can 
do it, Rick. I don’t believe the rain or the sun- 
shine can really make Thanksgiving weather.” 

“ What does then ? I’d like to know,” Rick 
said. 

“ Why, our own hearts, Rick. Mr. Hugh said 
once that we made our own weather.” 

Rick looked at the bright face inside the 
waterproof hood, and felt as if a sunbeam were 
sparkling before him. “I believe there will 


196 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


always be sunshine where you are, Dorie,” he 
said fondly. “ Well, here we are,” he exclaimed 
the next instant as they reached their gate. 
“ Now let’s run in, Dorie, and surprise mother 
and Davie by giving three cheers for the turkey 
and good things we are going to have for 
dinner.” 

Full of life and play, the brother and sister 
raced up the garden path and dashed into the 
house. 

Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah I ” they shouted. 

Davie sprang to meet them. “ Why, why,” he 
cried excitedly, “ how did you know it ? ”“ 

“ Know what ? that it rains ? ” Kick asked, 
as he struggled to get out of his wet coat. 
“Well, I suppose I know it because I’ve been 
out in it, Davie, and not being a duck I’m 
pretty well drenched.” 

Davie looked relieved. “ Oh, then, you don’t 
know it,” he said in a glad voice. “ I was afraid 
you did and I did want to tell you dreadfully. 
Rick and Dorothy ” — and Davie’s little voice 
was most impressive — “ something wonderful 
has happened — somebody has come — and it is — 
Uncle Rod.” 

“ Uncle Rod here ? Uncle Rod here ? ” cried 
Rick and Dorothy together; and heedless of 
the rain drops with which they marked their 
way they rushed into the sitting room. 


THE LAST SHIP. 


197 


A tall manly figure met them at the thresh- 
old. “Yes, Uncle Rod is really here,” said a 
voice that wakened many sunny and almost 
forgotten memories of their childish years ; and 
then two strong arms encircled the children, 
and wild with joy Rick shouted, 

“ Hurrah, hurrah, Dorothy, this is a Thanks- 
giving ship.” 

“ And so,” Uncle Rod said — when after a 
merry dinner they had all gathered around 
a bright wood fire, and the very atmosphere 
of the room seemed sweet with thanksgiving — 
“and so, Rick, Dorothy and you support the 
family, do you ? ” 

“ I help a good deal,” Rick said, with proud 
satisfaction. “ But Dorothy finds all the ships,” 
he acknowledged frankly. 

Uncle Rod smiled. “I know all about your 
ships,” he said. “ I had a long talk with your 
mother before you came home from church. 
You have been very bright in seeing your 
opportunities, and very brave in improving 
them, and I am proud of you both. I am sorry 
though that you had to bear such a burden 
while so young.” And Uncle Rod paused, and 
looked down tenderly into Dorothy’s happy 
face. 

“ But it has not hurt us, I am sure it has not 
hurt us,” Dorothy said earnestly. “You know 


198 


DOnOTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


we have been God’s children, Uncle Rod, and 
Our Father has taken good care of us.” 

The arm that encircled Dorothy drew her a 
little closer, and for a moment Uncle Rod was 
silent. Then he said : “ When I went away I 

thought your mother’s money would support 
you all comfortably until my return. I never 
considered the possibility of its being lost.” 

“ But why didn’t you write. Uncle Rod ? ” 
Rick asked with pardonable curiosity. 

Uncle Rod looked grave. did write,” he 
answered, “ and I would like to ask the South 
American post-office authorities where my letters 
are. I wrote from Buenos Ayres as soon as 
I arrived there — that letter j^-ou certainly ought 
to have received — my other letters were written 
in far-away and out-of-the-woiid places, and 
perhaps it is not strange that they never reached 
you. I must confess that I did not write often 
— most of the time I have been traveling, and 
my business has demanded all my time and all my 
mind. That is a business man’s great danger,” 
Uncle Rod continued musingly, “ he is too apt to 
make all his other interests in life yield to the 
one absorbing desire to make money. I hope, 
my boy,” and Uncle Rod looked thoughtfully at 
Rick, “ that you will never forget that money 
making is not the first, nor the noblest, work 
for a strong man in God’s world.” 


THE LAST SHIP. 


199 


“ I would rather study than make money,” 
Rick said, “ but then, you know. Uncle Rod, we 
must either make money or go to the almshouse. 
Dorothy and I have learned that.” 

Uncle Rod smiled a little, but then his face 
changed and he looked very serious. 

“ Money is necessary to our comfort and 
happiness,” he said, “ and it is not, in itself, an 
evil. It is the use we make of it, and the 
place we give it in our life, Rick, that makes its 
possession or its accumulation a danger to us. 
Well,” and Uncle Rod’s voice lost a little of its 
gravity, “ I must go on with my story. 

“I wondered and often felt quite aggrieved, 
that I did not hear from your mother. But I 
knew that letter-writing was always a disagree- 
able task for her, and I comforted myself with 
the old maxim, ‘No news is good news.’ 

“ Five weeks ago I was in Buenos Ayres on 
business ; a steamer from New York arrived 
just at that time and brought me Dorothy’s 
letter. You are too young to understand how 
I felt as I read it. A steamer for New York 
was to sail in two or three days and I decided 
at once to come home on it.” 

“And you got here for Thanksgiving,” Dor- 
othy said in a glad voice. 

“ And just in time to share Davie’s turkey,” 
Uncle Rod added laughingly. “ So, Rick,” and 


200 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS, 


he laid his hand fondly on Rick’s curly head, 
“you would be willing to leave school and 
go into the store again to help me, would 
you ? ” 

“Why — how did you know it, Uncle Rod?” 
Rick stammered. 

“ Davie and your mother have enlightened 
my ignorance,” Uncle Rod explained smilingly. 
“ And, Dorothy,” he continued, “ is willing to 
give me all the money she can make with her 
needle. My dear children, if I had no other 
reason for being grateful to our heavenly Father 
your unselfish affection would make this a true 
Thanksgiving day for me. But,” and Uncle 
Rod cleared his voice, that had grown strangely 
husky, and went on cheerfully, “ I am glad to 
be able to tell you that Rick will not have to 
leave school, and Dorothy will not be obliged 
to prick her little fingers sewing for me. In 
fact,” and he smiled tenderly on Dorothy, “ I 
think I may as well tell you at once, my little 
girl, that you will have to send out no more 
ships. The cherry ship — the holly ship — the 
chapel ship — I know all their names, you see — 
you are done with them all. Rick shall go to 
school, and to college also, if that is his desire, 
and you, my darling, shall study, and travel, 
and have as happy a life as a loving old uncle 
can give you.” 


THE LAST SHIP, 


201 


“ Why, why,” Davie exclaimed, “ standing up 
before his uncle, with his young eyes wide open 
with astonishment, “have you got so much 
money. Uncle Rod ? ” 

Uncle Rod laughed. “I don’t own a gold 
mine, Davie,” he said, “but perhaps I own what 
is better for us — a very profitable and growing 
business. I have been very successful in all my 
undertakings since I left home. Everything I 
have attempted has prospered, and now ” — and 
he looked affectionately at the bright faces 
watching him — “ I think I can understand the 
reason.” 

“ And now you have come home to stay, 
haven’t you. Uncle Rod ? ” Dorothy asked. 

“ For a little while, my dear, until you are 
ready to go back with me.” 

“ Go back with you. Uncle Rod ? What I 
down to Argentine ? ” Rick cried. 

“Yes. It is a beautiful part of the world, 
with a delightful climate. You will thoroughly 
enjoy your life there for a few years.” 

“ How soon will we go ? ” Rick asked, almost 
breathless with his surprise and interest. 

“ In the early spring,” Uncle Rod answered. 
Dorothy drew a long breath, that sounded 
strangely like a sigh. “ Then I won’t see Mr. 
Hugh again,” she said. 

“ Mr. Hugh,” Uncle Rod repeated, “ I don’t 


202 


DOROTHY AND HER SHIPS. 


remember that name. Who is Mr. Hugh ? and 
where is he ? ” 

“ He’s in Europe, and he has been very good 
to me,’’ Dorothy said soberly. 

Uncle Rod looked a little puzzled, but he said 
kindly: “Perhaps you will see him again, some 
time, my dear. I have found in my own life that 
old friends are like lost treasures — we stumble 
over them often in the places where we least 
expect them to be.” 

“ Well,” Dorothy said with a bright smile, 
“ whether I ever see him again or not he was 
very kind to me, and I shall never forget him.” 

Uncle Rod smiled. “ You may keep all your 
pleasant memories, my little girl,” he said 
gently. “ I would not wish you to forget one 
friend who has shown you a kindness, or given 
you a helping hand in these trying years. But 
now I trust your trials are all past, and you will 
go with me into a new world, and a beautiful 
life, and promise me to be happy there, will you 
not ? ” 

Dorothy drew very close to her uncle. 
Her young face was bright with trust and affec- 
tion. “I will go anywhere with you. Uncle 
Rod,” she said, “ because I love you, and be- 
cause ” — her voice softened and he had to stoop 
to hear it — “I think Our Father wants me 
to go.” 


I 


THE LAST SHIP. 203 

“ Rick and Davie,” Uncle Rod said gravely, 
“ come here.” 

With wondering faces the hoys obeyed him. 
With a tenderness of manner that was almost 
solemn Uncle Rod clasped the three children in 
his arms. 

“ We are all God’s children,” he said rever- 
ently, “ and now let us ask Our Father to guide 
and bless us in the new life we are to live to- 
gether.” 

Up to the Father in heaven went their earnest 
trustful prayer, and their after lives witnessed 
that it was heard and answered. 

The storm of that Thanksgiving day was al- 
ready a memory of the past, and the stars were 
bright in the midnight sky when the last light 
was darkened in Mrs. Talcott’s cottage; but 
even then Rick’s irrepressible joy sought expres- 
sion. 

“ Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah !” he shouted for 
the third time that day. “Your last ship is in, 
Dorothy, and it is the best of all.” 


FINIS. 




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